Lost in Translation
by NerdyGerl
Summary: Inspired by an article of 20 untranslatable words.  Each one-shot will be inspired by a different untranslatable word and each inspired by our favorite couple.
1. Schadenfreude

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Author's Note: I was spending some time on the interwebs and came across this amazing article of 20 untranslatable words. Just glancing at the list, I was so inspired by Booth and Brennan, that I decided to make each word on the list a one-shot story. Some will be funny, others will be angsty, but they are all going to be about our favorite couple. So enjoy, and feel free to cast a vote for the next chapter, there are so many to choose from.

This is the link to the article if you want to check it out. It's well worth the time (just get rid of those pesky spaces).

matadornetwork. com /abroad/20-awesomely-untranslatable-words-from-around-the-world/

Lost in Translation

Chapter One: Schadenfreude

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><p>Schadenfreude: <em>German<em> – Quite famous for its meaning that somehow other languages neglected to recognize, this refers to the feeling of pleasure derived by seeing another's misfortune.

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><p>"Dr. Brennan, I am so so sorry." Daisy reached into the swamp and attempted to pull her mentor out of the muddy pit. However, Daisy's grip was slippery and Brennan tumbled back into the slime.<p>

From the sidelines, Booth was laughing hysterically as his partner finally regained her footing. From her hair to her gum boots, she was covered in a combination of sludge and mud. Brennan looked at him in exasperation.

"I don't see what is so funny, Booth."

Booth wiped tears out of his eyes. "You don't see what's funny?" He gasped as he tried to catch his breath. "You are... you are... the Thing and the Creature from the Black Lagoon all rolled into one." Another hysterical gasp erupted.

Once again, Daisy was apologizing. "Really, Dr. Brennan. I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention, and I just knocked into you. I'm so so sorry. Please tell me that you forgive me, or I'll never forgive myself."

"It was an accident Ms. Wick. Please, make sure that in the future you are more conscientious." She did not exactly look pleased at the intern who had caused her to become so well acquainted with the crime scene; but as she turned to her partner, her gaze spit fire. "Really, Booth. You shouldn't laugh at someone else's misfortune."

Booth wiped one final tear out of his eye and grinned, "Sorry 'bout that, Bones. Won't happen again."

She placed her hands on her hip and continued to stare him down. Even now, his emotions were barely under control. "There is absolutely no sincerity in your tone. Will you check in with Drs. Saroyan and Hodgins with the other body, while I attempt to finish my part of the investigation?"

Booth attempted to assure his partner that he would check on her colleagues who were dealing with the fleshier and cleaner set of remains, but he couldn't trust himself not to burst out laughing again. He merely nodded and marched toward the other end of the crime scene. Cam and Hodgins had noticed the commotion earlier, and they were barely keeping their own serious tone as the agent approached them.

The trio shared a quick run down of the scene, before turning the area over to the techs who were standing by. Brennan had continued her investigation while covered head to toe in slime, ignoring the stench and inconvenience, and focusing on the mystery in front of her. Daisy had attempted to keep helping her mentor, but had been brushed aside and started running between the two bodies, just trying to help someone. Eventually, she resigned herself to the fact that being quiet and hiding in the back of the van would be the most helpful to all concerned, and Brennan breathed a sigh of relief that she could finally work without interruption.

Twenty minutes later, Brennan had processed what she could and was also ready to hand her scene over to the techs. She signaled the group and stepped away from the body. Booth, had been staying out of her way, but now that she was done, he approached her.

"Bones, you aren't coming back to DC dressed like that, right? I'm not letting you in the SUV."

"Of course not. I am just about to change." Brennan walked quickly to the trunk of his car and opened the hinge. Booth was making small talk with a tech when he heard her yelling for him. "Booth! Where is my bag?"

He quickly made his way towards his car, a confused look on his face. "What bag?"

"The bag that I keep in your SUV, so that when situations like this occur, I can change my clothes."

Booth responded sheepishly. "Oh, that bag. Rebecca bought some new bedroom furniture for Parker last weekend and I helped her haul it. I took out your bag so that there would be more room in the back, and I guess I forgot to put it back in."

Her arms crossed over her chest. "You forgot?"

He became defensive. "It was an accident!"

"An accident? No, it was just you being careless. You have no respect for me or my space or my belongings."

Booth's gaze now became hard and he quickly sobered. "I have nothing but respect for you and your space and your belongings."

Brennan huffed as she peeled off one horrendously dirty glove, using her other filthy hand to unzip her ruined coveralls.

Booth hissed when he realized that she was stripping in front of him, an amused Hodgins, Cam, a contrite Daisy and half a dozen technicians. "Bones! What are you doing?"

"I can't very well ride back to DC in this suit, so I need to remove it."

"You're naked under there!"

"No, I'm not." She was as usual telling the truth. But she was wearing nothing but a practical sports bra and underwear under the suit. Booth's jaw dropped as he took in his partner's skimpy attire.

"Do you always wear nothing under your Jeffersonian uniform?"

"Once again, Booth. I am not wearing nothing. The suit is impervious to water damage, as such it does not breathe, and it can be quite uncomfortable. I have found that wearing very few layers helps alleviate some of the discomfort."

Booth remained slack-jawed. "But, I've never seen you like this before."

"If I need to change at the crime scene, I always have something to change into. Until today that is."

"Well you can't go back to DC, wearing that. You'll be arrested for indecent exposure."

Brennan huffed again. "Then give me your jacket. It will provide more covering so as not to offend your Puritanical sense of modesty."

"I'm not giving you my jacket. You smell like something died inside my gym bag. This is a very expensive suit."

Brennan shrugged, she honestly did not care. "Fine, then I'm getting in the car, and we can head back to DC. You can drop me off at my apartment and I can get appropriate clothing there."

Booth was horrified at the prospect of sitting next to his nearly naked partner for an extended period of time and quickly pulled off his jacket. He loosened his tie a bit while he was at it, the hot day had suddenly become even warmer. "Here, Bones. Take it. It's just a jacket."

Brennan nodded, but made no move to take the suit coat from him. She instead gave him a concession. "I will have it dry-cleaned. Or I will replace it. Even if it is technically your fault that I have to borrow it." She completely stepped out of the coveralls and bent over to roll them up and dispose of them properly.

Booth hastily threw the jacket at her. His voice cracked a bit as he addressed her."Please, Bones. Cover yourself up." She grabbed the garment and dressed herself. Booth had to loosen his tie a bit more when he caught the sight of her, wearing his jacket and filling it out quite nicely.

Brennan seemed oblivious to the fact that he was staring at her. She only showed impatience at being further delayed from her work by something as silly as a lack of clothes. "Booth? Are you ready to go now? I've processed what I can. The rest will have to wait until we are back at the Jeffersonian." He said nothing as the image of her wearing his clothes seared itself into his brain.

She snapped her fingers in his face. "Booth! Let's go." Booth blinked and came back to reality.

"Yeah, let's get back to DC." He made his customary move to place his hand at the small of her back, but retracted the hand when he felt the heat of the black fabric that had been baking in the sun. He instead sailed ahead of his partner and opened her door. She said nothing as he helped her into the SUV, and Booth avoided the gaze of all of his associates as he walked around to the driver's side.

Cam watched Booth drive away and smirked at Hodgins. "You know? I think I have a Fighting Hagfish sweatshirt in my backseat that I could have given her."

Hodgins grinned back. "There's always a spare suit in the back of the van."

Daisy looked horrified. "Why didn't you say anything? I would have gotten it for her, she couldn't stay mad at me if I got her a change of clothes."

Hodgins ignored the squintern, who stormed back to the van. Hodgins shrugged at Cam. "What can I say? I get a kick out of seeing Booth flustered. And just think. DC is three hours away and she's going to be sitting right next to him, wearing his jacket." He let out a chuckle. "I've got to text Angie. She's going to be so mad that she missed it." Hodgins grinned as he pulled out his phone.

Cam shook her head. "You have quite the mean streak, Bug Man."

"Why thank you, Camille."


	2. Dépaysement

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Author's Note: Here is the next installment, as the word is French, I probably should have set the story in Paris, but I have never been to France. I have actually spent time in Prague, so I set this story there. Enjoy.

Chapter Two: Dépaysement

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><p>Dépaysement : <em>French<em> – The feeling that comes from not being in one's home country.

* * *

><p>A heavily accented voice caught Brennan's attention as she bent over a brightly lit table. She looked up as the man cleared his throat and started speaking again.<p>

"I am sorry to disturb you Dr. Brennan, but there is a man here that is asking for you. He keeps pulling out his... what do you call it? It was shiny... and..."

Brennan's eyes widened as she realized who had come to see her. "His badge?"

The man snapped his fingers. "Ano! Yes, that's it. He keeps pulling his badge out and demanding to see you."

Brennan quickly stood and peeled off her gloves. She buttoned up her borrowed lab coat and faced the man who had been her assistant for the past two weeks.

"Thank you, Vlad. I will go and see him now. He tends to be very impatient. I'm sorry for the interruption to our work." The man nodded and opened the door for the scientist.

Two minutes later, Brennan had woven her way through the labyrinth of the building and emerged at the front lobby. Booth was standing there, his badge on the counter and a Czech-English Dictionary open in his hands, attempting to find the word 'anthropologist' in the book. The rather bemused woman wearing a white lab coat watched him drop the book on the counter when the back door opened and his partner emerged.

She looked at him in exasperation. "Booth, Martina spent four years studying in the United States, you could have just asked her if she spoke English."

Booth's cheeks stained pink as he realized that this woman had been messing with him, and that his partner had once again witnessed him acting without thinking.

"Well, at least I was trying to respect another person's culture and not just assume things. I was trying to not be one of those arrogant Americans I hear stories about."

"But you are an arrogant American, and you want everyone to know it. You are wearing the belt buckle that proves it." The infamous rooster did, in fact, stand out proudly on his dark jeans.

"Let's leave my clothing out of it. I haven't seen you in two weeks, would you like to at least say hello?"

Brennan crossed her arms. "Why are you here, Booth?"

"Well, that was almost like a greeting. How about this one? Hi, Bones! You are looking well. I like the lab coat. White's a nice color on you."

She shook her head at him. "Hello, Booth. Why are you here?"

Booth looked at her incredulously. "Because you asked me to come."

"No, I didn't."

Booth reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a rumpled piece of paper. "And I quote. 'Prague is a beautiful city. It is hard to believe that I have never been here before. I have been able to explore the rich history of the area and see its beauty up close for the first time, but I find that I am not enjoying it as much as I could be. Rationally, I know that I have only been away from DC for less than two weeks. I have been abroad for much longer periods of time in areas that have had far less to offer, but I find that I am ready to return to the Jeffersonian. The remains in Prague have proved fascinating, and while I give my full attention to this case, I find that I have lost my usual sense of passion. Despite everything that is here for me in Europe, I am looking forward to coming home and returning to my expected routine.'" There was more to the letter, but Booth paused to take a breath, and Brennan snatched it out of his hands.

"Where did you get this?"

Booth shrugged. "From a computer. It's an e-mail."

"That I sent to Angela."

"That she forwarded to me. My e-mail only told me that you had sent some postcards to Parker and that you hoped that all was well at the Bureau. We are partners, you could have told me that you were homesick."

Brennan huffed. "I do not get homesick." She seemed to need to reinforce her statement, and she spoke again. "I am not homesick."

"Yes, you are. It's right there in the letter." He pointed his finger at the further crumpled piece of paper balled in Brennan's fist. "You know, it's not a crime to miss DC, your friends, your family, your home."

Brennan's eyes darted around the room as if she was afraid that there would be witnesses to her admitting her own perceived weakness. She was surprised and relieved to see that Martina and Vlad had retreated into another part of the building. Even though she and Booth were alone, she still stepped close to him and lowered her voice, wanting privacy for the moment.

"I don't understand it. I've never felt this way before."

Booth accepted the admission and quickly closed the gap between them and gathered his partner in his arms. "I missed you too, Temperance. That's why I came. I was homesick, too."

She looked at him skeptically. "But you've been in DC the entire time that I've been gone. I don't know what any of this means."

"It means, Bones, that you are my home. The second your plane took off, I missed you. And every day that you have been gone, I've missed you more. Don't you get it? I've been homesick for you."

Brennan rested her head on Booth's shoulder, the weight of his confession settling upon her. She sighed a bit as she revealed the full truth of what she felt. "I did miss you. I missed the lab, and Angela and the team, and..."

Whatever else she missed was unknown, because Booth closed the final distance between them when he pressed his lips to hers. She gasped a bit, not exactly expecting the intensity and passion that she felt in the kiss. He pulled back, realizing that he may have gone a step too far. Instantly, her hand wrapped around the back of his head and pulled his mouth back to hers. They continued to kiss, losing all sense of time until they were interrupted by the clearing of a throat.

Several colleagues were now standing in the lobby. Martina seemed to be the first to regain the power of speech. "We are so sorry to interrupt, Dr. Brennan, but we were going to lunch. Would you and your friend like to join us?"

Brennan and Booth separated, wiping their mouths in embarrassment. Brennan recovered quickly, and place her hand on Booth's arm.

"Thank you for the invitation, but we have other plans. I am going to take Booth here and show him the sights. I'd really like to show him the Charles Bridge, and take him to Malá Strana. I want to show him the Infant of Prague."

"You're willingly taking me inside a church?" She looked at him quizzically. "That's right. I'm a constant surprise." He leaned in and kissed her swiftly before she could comment. He looked victorious at her speechlessness. He waved at the small crowd. "It was very nice to meet you all. Come on, Bones. Let's get out of here, I've got a lot of city to see."

The group called out of chorus of good-byes, and Brennan gathered enough of her sanity to say "Dobrý den" to her assistant, and allow Booth to guide her out of the building.

* * *

><p>The sun was setting as Booth and Brennan strolled arm in arm along the Charles Bridge. Brennan paused at an artist packing up her wares. She spoke to the girl in her native tongue and was soon the proud owner of several beautiful paintings of the city.<p>

Booth took the package from her hands and carried it under his arm. His free hand extended out and grabbed his partner's.

Brennan stepped closer to his side before speaking. "The girl reminded me of Angela. I think she will like the one of the city at night, and she will appreciate me supporting the arts."

Booth picked up her hand and grazed his lips across it. He figured that the girl would be able to afford her rent for several months based on the amount that Brennan undoubtedly gave her. "Who are the other paintings for?"

"One for each of us. I want to be able to remember our time here together."

"Like we could ever forget." They continued to stroll for a minute before Booth spoke again. "When can you fly back to DC? Are you ready to get out of here yet?"

"I have a few responsibilities to finish up here, it will be several days before I can leave. And honestly, I'm in no hurry to leave here." Booth looked disappointed, but she smiled at him and his face relaxed. "As long as you are here, I won't miss DC as much."

"You won't miss home?"

Her smile became even wider as she turned to face him. "Don't you get it? When I'm with you, I am home." She pressed her lips to his. He dropped the package in favor of holding her closer and deepening the kiss. When a need for oxygen became apparent, they separated, and Booth rested his forehead on hers.

"Welcome home, Bones."

"Welcome home, Booth."


	3. Kyoikumama

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Author's Note: I've been a bad author lately. I have been so busy, and will be for the next two weeks. I will try and get my other stories updated as soon as possible, but it's going to be a little while. I'm sorry for the delays, and hope that you are still around with me. I hope you enjoy the latest chapter. Who doesn't love a little Parker/Brennan bonding.

Chapter Three: Kyoikumama

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><p>Kyoikumama: <em>Japanese<em> – A mother who relentlessly pushes her children toward academic achievement

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><p>Brennan was partway through her half of the paperwork on her latest case when she was interrupted by the ringing of her office phone. She hastily picked it up, anxious to get back off the phone and back to work.<p>

"Brennan."

"Dr. Brennan? It's Rebecca Stinson. You know, Parker's mom?"

Brennan suddenly sat a little straighter in her chair. She couldn't imagine that there could be any positive reason behind this phone call. Her voice became increasingly panicked as she spoke. "Yes, I know who you are. Is everything fine with Parker? Is he hurt? Have you talked to Booth yet?"

Rebecca calmed the rather frantic scientist, "Oh, he's fine. He was just a bit nervous to call you himself."

"I don't understand, then. Why would he want to call me?"

"Well, he misses you. I know that you haven't been as close since you and Seeley went away, but he used to love coming to the lab to see you."

Brennan was quiet for a moment, while she and Booth were regaining the relationship of their past, she had yet to really enter back into Parker's life. Her voice was soft as she responded. "Yes, I have missed him, too."

Now it was time for Rebecca to pause. She could hear the wistfulness in the voice at the other end of the phone. Whatever had happened to Seeley and Dr. Brennan with their travels and the arrival and departure of Hannah had obviously had a great effect, one that both partners were still recovering from. She found the courage to speak again. "Yes, anyway. Parker has this huge science fair coming up, and he is determined to win. He wanted you to help him. I told him that you were probably far too busy to work on it, but..."

Brennan cut Rebecca off. "Yes. Of course, I'll help him."

"Are you sure? It's quite a commitment, it's an Honor's Project at school. The winner goes on to a Regional and National Fair. But Parker is so determined to win. He keeps telling me that he has to win."

"He _will_ win if I help him."

Rebeca quickly backpedalled, she could now see Dr. Brennan completing the entire project and slapping Parker's name on it. It still had to be Parker's project. She quickly explained the main rules over the phone and asked Brennan if she really wanted to help Parker.

"I would be happy to help him. When can we start?"

Before Rebecca could respond, Parker had grabbed the phone out of his mother's hand, confident enough to talk on the phone once he knew that Brennan would help him.

"Thanks, Dr. Bones. I'm so excited. I have this great idea, and if you help me, I know that I can win."

Brennan's scientific curiosity got the best of her. "Why do you want to win so badly?"

Parker paused "You get a huge trophy!"

Over the phone, Brennan smiled a bit. Of course, he would want a trophy. "Parker, it seems like this will be a lot of work for just a trophy."

Parker looked guiltily up at his mother and then excused himself. Once he was barricaded in his room, he spoke again. "OK, the trophy would be cool, but there is another reason that I have to win. I have to beat Tiffany. She's always telling that she is better at science than I am. So I have to beat her." He sounded a bit guilty as he admitted the truth to his mentor. "Is it bad that I want to beat a girl? I don't think that Dad would like it. He is always telling me to respect everybody, especially girls."

Brennan considered it for a moment. She could say for a fact that Booth would never condone Parker competing in a science fair for the sole purpose of beating a girl. She, however, had no such compunctions. "The best scientist will win, Parker. You will be competing against dozens of girls and boys, you would be showing your respect by working your hardest. There will still be only one winner. And I think that it could be you if you are willing to work hard enough."

"I'll work real hard. I promise, Dr. Bones. I won't let you down."

"I'm sure you won't, Parker. Tell your mother to bring you to the lab tomorrow, and we can get started."

"Thanks, Bones. You are the best!"

* * *

><p>Parker started his project the next day, being dropped off by his mother after school and spending several hours a day at the lab. He continued to come to the lab everyday, greeted by a cheerful, but focused Brennan who was helping him formulate his hyptheses and begin his experiments. There was no active case and Booth had been pulled into a training seminar for new recruits and was out at Quantico for a week, so the project was well on its way before Booth found out about it. He ordinarily would have been thrilled that his son was working so hard on his project. Unfortunately, Booth had used his siren to get back into town for his son's club hockey game, only to find out that the boy had taken a leave of absence from the team until his project was finished.<p>

Booth stormed into the lab, shouting for his partner. "Bones, you're turning my son into a Squint!"

Brennan and Parker looked up from Parker's petri dish. They were both wearing blue lab coats, Parker's was a few sizes too large, but someone had rolled up the sleeves. Parker and Bones were also wearing lab goggles that made them look a bit like insects. All the anger left his body as he took in the sight. Yes, he was upset that his son had picked science over sports, but he couldn't fault the boy. If he could spend uninterrupted hours with Bones, he'd take it too. Even if they had to talk science to do it.

Brennan removed her goggles and stared at her partner, "Is there something wrong, Booth?"

Booth stammered, "Yes... I mean... No. I mean, Parker, why'd you quit hockey?"

Parker now spoke up. "I took a sab... sabbat... what's the word again, Bones?"

"Sabbatical. Parker decided that the science project was more important than his hockey team right now. Once the project is complete, he can return to the team. He really wants to win, and has chosen to focus on his academics right now. I believe that we should all fully support him in his scholarly research. He is a very talented boy."

Booth looked a bit sheepish. "Well, when you put it that way." He pulled a spare pair of goggles off of the shelf and moved toward his son and partner. "OK, squints, show me what you've got."

* * *

><p>Parker worked hard on his project over the next several weeks, but he didn't just work with Brennan. He had help on the science from Hodgins and help with the graphics for his poster from Angela. Cam had donated supplies and the use of equipment and Wendell had helped Parker assemble his display. The entire team had been careful to only guide the boy, and point him in the right direction, and they were all amazed by the final project. Brennan had then forced all of her interns to attend a practice event, where they listened to Parker's presentation and were able to ask him questions. Brennan was beaming with pride as Parker was able to answer an obscure question from Nigel-Murray and decipher the excited squeals that emanated from Daisy.<p>

Rebecca had come to collect her son and the final display, and was dragged into the lab to hear yet another recitation of the project. Rebecca may have been sick and tired of hearing about the project that had stolen all of her son's free time for the past month, but she relented when she saw the excitement and pride on Parker's face and on Dr. Brennan's as well. She had never interacted much with the anthropologist, but Rebecca could now see why exactly father and son had fallen so hard for the awkward doctor. It was an amazing sight to see the entire team gathered around and supporting Parker and his mentor.

Rebecca approached the scientist. "I hope that you can attend the fair tomorrow, Dr. Brennan. It would be a shame for you not to see the competition."

Brennan looked around at her team that all nodded along with her. "We will all be there. We are all here to support Parker and his academic pursuits."

Rebecca smiled, "I'm sure that you will be his good luck charm."

Brennan's eyebrow raised, "He won't need luck, he is very well prepared, and an excellent student. I have nothing but confidence in his abilities."

Rebecca couldn't help but reach over and hug the scientist. She was a bit emotional at hearing such praise from the stoic Dr. Brennan. Brennan awkwardly returned the hug and exhaled a sharp breath when Parker ran into the two females and joined in the group hug.

"Mom, Dr. Bones, can we go get milkshakes? I'm starving."

By the time Booth got a chance to swing by and drag his partner to dinner, he was surprised to find that she had already left for the diner. He whistled a bit as he entered the diner, excited to surprise his partner and ask how the project had finished up. The breath was caught in his throat as he watched his ex and his partner laughing over coffee while Parker shoved fries in his mouth and slurped at a shake. He just stood their staring until Brennan noticed him. Her eyes lit up when he slid into the seat next to her and grabbed at Parker's plate, snatching a few crisp potatoes.

"So, Bub. You ready for tomorrow?"

Parker didn't have a chance to answer, as Brennan spoke instead, while simultaneously flagging down a waitress and getting Booth his own coffee and a slice of pie. "He is more than ready, I predict that he will perform very well. He has worked very hard. You should be proud of your son."

Booth beamed down at his boy. "I always am. Thanks for helping him, Bones. We all appreciate it." Rebecca and Parker nodded vigorously in agreement.

"It was my pleasure." The evening continued until Rebecca decided that Parker needed his rest and took her son home. The partners remained, chatting and lingering over coffee. Booth's arm casually reached behind Brennan's chair and she was taken aback at the flirtatious touch, but chose to ignore it.

"We should get going, Booth. It's been a long day, and tomorrow is very important to Parker, we should be well rested."

Booth reluctantly pulled his arm back. "You are right, Bones. Tomorrow is a big day. And just so you know, I'm proud of you, too." Her eyebrow raised quizzically, and Booth covered. "You know, for helping Parker, you are really wonderful with him."

Booth could have sworn that Brennan blushed slightly, and Booth couldn't resist placing a soft kiss on her cheek, further expressing his appreciation. Brennan's eyes widened a bit in shock, but she said nothing as he threw some money on the table and led her out of the diner.

* * *

><p>Brennan bit her lip nervously as the panel announced the winners of the fair. Parker's rival was the runner up, and when Parker's name was announced as the winner of the fair, Brennan shouted her approval and gave Booth an impulsive hug. The Squint Squad and Rebecca joined in with the applause and celebration and waited for Parker to receive his trophy, his ribbon, and handshakes from the judges. He beamed with pride as he looked at his support system, his mom crying a bit, the squints clapping, and his dad with his arm around Brennan looking a bit misty-eyed himself. As soon as he was able he brought the trophy to his family and then went out in the crowd in search of Tiffany. He had a bet to settle. He returned to the group a few minutes later, grinning like an idiot.<p>

"Now she has to go on a date with me!" Parker shouted as he pumped his fist in the air. All adults present turned their heads abruptly.

Booth recovered first. "What do you mean, she has to go on a date with you?"

Parker kept grinning. "We had a bet. If I beat her at the science fair, then she would go with me to Go Karts and pizza and ice cream."

Booth looked helplessly between his partner and his son's mother. Brennan looked slightly offended. She had been working under the presumption that Parker was working on the fair for its own merits and his own competitive spirit. And now he admitted that all this work had been to impress the very girl he was determined to beat. Her anger shifted to confusion. "I don't know what that means."

Parker continued. "Tiffany. She's the prettiest and the smartest girl in school. All the boys like her, but she said that she would go out with me if I could impress her more than the other boys. I told her that I'd win the fair and take her on the best date ever. Right, Dad? Nothing is more fun then Go Karts and pizza."

Booth had no answer as he continued to gape like a fish out of water. Angela suddenly snorted and turned to her husband. "Did you see the program? Tiffany is Tiffany Brenneman." She quickly flipped through the colored program, to a brunette girl with bright blue eyes. "Look at her, her initials are even T.B." She pointed it out to Hodgins, and they were both choking on their own laughter. Cam caught an eye of the program as well and hid her smile behind her hand to keep a sense of decorum. Booth's eyes shot daggers at the scientists as Rebecca smirked in his direction.

"This whole project was over a bet, over a girl?" He didn't know whether to be horrified or proud.

Parker looked a bit sheepish. All of these people had helped him, given him their full support and he hadn't been completely honest with them.

"I may have started this project for the wrong reasons, but I had a lot of fun doing it. And I learned a lot. I'm sorry if I wasn't honest. I just wanted to win." The innocent and regretful look on the boy's face had all of the adults reassuring him, even if they were still a bit concerned over the boy's true motives. The conversation was interrupted by the girl in question.

"Hi Parker."

"Hi Tiffany. I liked your project."

"Thanks, yours was better though. Do you think you could show me how the bacteria glowed under the black-light again?"

"Sure! Just one second." The boy turned to Brennan. "Dr. Bones, when we go to the Go Karts, can you come with us? It won't be as much fun unless you are there. Please say you'll come. I wouldn't have won without you helping me. You really are the best." Tiffany nodded in agreement. She had heard all about the famous scientist, and she was secretly dying to talk about skeletons with the expert.

Booth suddenly recovered, "Of course you have to come, Bones. He couldn't have done it without you."

Brennan nodded her agreement and the two children scampered off. The rest of the team also scattered, still giggling a bit, leaving the partners and Rebecca standing together. Booth squinted at Brennan. "Do you realize that he quit hockey for a girl? That's true love, Bones."

Rebecca turned to Booth, "Haven't you ever done something crazy in the name of love, Seeley?"

Booth shrugged as he carefully avoided the gaze of his ex and his partner. He changed the subject instead, "I am so going to kick your butt at Go Karts, Bones."

Brennan raised an eyebrow at her partner. "Winner picks the pizza toppings?"

Booth smiled and threw an arm around his partner. "Sounds like a deal. I'll even let you pick off the pepperoni and sausage, when I win."

Brennan smirked at Booth, "I will let you pick off the mushrooms."

"In your dreams, Bones." He threw his arm around his partner and pulled her close.

* * *

><p>Two nights later, they did in fact order a vegetarian pizza as both girls celebrated their success over two pouting Booth boys.<p> 


	4. Ya'aburnee

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Author's Note: It's time for another update. This is actually the second story that I wrote for this word. It was feeling too angsty to me, so I changed it to this one. I still don't know quite how I feel about this one. Of course after seeing the previews for next week, I could have gone an entirely different direction. Anyone else playing the previews for next week over and over again? Anyway, my other story may still see the light of day. With some tweaking, it will fit the bill for another word. I'm glad that you are enjoying these one-shots so much. Your support has been wonderful. I hope that you enjoy.

Chapter Four: Ya'aburnee

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><p>Ya'aburnee: Arabic – Both morbid and beautiful at once, this incantatory word means "You bury me," a declaration of one's hope that they'll die before another person because of how difficult it would be to live without them.<p>

* * *

><p>Booth walked into Brennan's office, whistling a familiar tune. Brennan looked up from the papers on her desk and smiled. "Hi, Booth."<p>

"Hey, Bones. Whatcha doing?"

Brennan turned back to the various brochures. "Research."

Booth picked up a pamphlet off of her desk and idly flipped through it. "I can see that, Bones. Something for your next book?"

Brennan closed one booklet and opened another, not once looking up at her partner. "No, for my funeral."

Booth dropped the pamphlet, which he now realized was about cremation. His expression was slightly panicked as he addressed his partner. "Is something wrong? Are you sick? Cause we'll fight this. You are the strongest person that I know. We'll get through this."

Brennan looked up from her brochure, confused. "I'm not sick. I'm just being practical."

Booth let out a sigh of relief that his partner wasn't sick, only to be replaced by a different look of concern. "Planning your funeral isn't practical, it's morbid."

"Booth, we deal with death everyday. I actually find it odd that we haven't spent more time talking about what our last wishes are."

Booth shook his head, picked up the pamphlet and returned it to her desk. "I'd prefer not to think about it."

"You always avoid what you perceive as uncomfortable issues. Booth, we know better than anybody, that we will all die. I don't believe in an afterlife, so I won't be there to witness any of it. This is all rather a moot point, but it will save anybody else from having to make these decisions. As a forensic anthropologist, a common burial will preserve my skeletal remains, which appeals to me. However, cremation is also a common and acceptable practice. I also haven't ruled out the possibility of donating my body to science. I took a gross anatomy class in graduate school. Having a cadaver to work on was very beneficial, even if I did have to deal with flesh. I would be passing along that unique opportunity to another group of students like myself." Brennan paused in her speech and was shocked at the expression on her partner's face. "Booth, are you all right? I don't think that I have ever seen anybody physically turn green before. I thought it was just an expression."

Booth did indeed look green. He felt his breakfast rise in his throat, and he barely managed to avoid vomiting all over his partner's office. "Bones, you are not donating your body to science."

"Why not? It's a viable..."

Booth cut her off. "I am not letting strangers cut apart your body."

Brennan's voice took on its most practical tone. "I won't be able to feel it. I'll be dead."

This time, Booth couldn't hold down his breakfast, he did manage however to empty the content of his stomach into a wastebasket next to Brennan's desk. Brennan was instantly at his side, pressing the back of her hand across his forehead. "It doesn't feel like you are running a fever, and you seemed fine at dinner last night. How long have you been feeling ill for?"

Booth wiped at his mouth and pulled away from his partner, staying bent over at the waist and catching his breath. "Just about as long as you have been talking about planning your funeral, and letting people hack you to pieces."

"It would be for research."

"Absolutely not. I won't allow it."

Brennan raised an eyebrow at him, but he was still bent at the waist and he missed the expression. "You won't allow it? You have no say in this matter. And it is likely that you will predecease me, so you really shouldn't be concerned about any of this."

Booth chose to ignore the comment on his apparently short life span and focused on what he perceived as the most pressing matter. He stood up and looked into her eyes. "Of course, I'm concerned. You are my partner and my friend. I don't want to think about you dying."

"It is the conclusion of every life, Booth."

Suddenly, Booth couldn't take her logic and reason anymore. All he could imagine was staring at a headstone with her name on it. He was glad that he'd already emptied the contents of his stomach as he was feeling nauseous again. He ignored the nausea in favor of the anger he felt. His words were harsh and loud and he confronted his partner. "Stop it, Temperance. Stop talking about it. I don't want to hear it."

Brennan's face contorted in confusion at his harsh words. "Why are you so upset about this?"

"How could you not know why you talking about your funeral and people cutting you up bothers me?"

"I just don't understand."

His tone was still angry as he grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "How can you not understand that I love you and the thought of you dying kills me."

Brennan's eyes widened at the admission. Did he really just admit that he loved her? He seemed to not realize what he said, but he released his partner and stormed out of the office without another word. Brennan stood frozen the the spot, her back to her office door, staring at the spot that her partner had left behind.

The silence was broken by Angela walking into the room, her computer tablet in hands, looking over data on a reconstruction from Limbo.

"Sweetie, I think I figured out the parameters... Bren, are you OK?"

"Booth just told me that he loved me."

Angela managed to not squeal, but ran over to give her friend a hug. Brennan did not return the gesture and Angela sensed the grim mood. "Booth just told you that he loved you, why are you standing here and not making out like teenagers in the back of his SUV?"

"He's angry with me. He just marched out of here."

Angela was confused. Did Booth finally admit his true feelings and get shot down by his partner? "What happened?"

"He came in here as I was planning my funeral. It made him upset."

"Sweetie, of course it did. It makes me upset too. The thought of anything happening to any one of us, it makes me sick."

Brennan smiled, "Yes, it made Booth sick as well, literally." She sat back in her office chair and looked at her friend. "I think about it all of the time."

Angela sat opposite of her friend, and asked. "You dying?"

Brennan hesitated. "Yes, I have thought about my own mortality. But I meant Booth. I think about my partner dying all of the time. You may recall that I've already attended his funeral."

Angela smirked, "I think that he still has the bruise." Angela quickly sobered when she saw the sad expression in her friend's eyes. She had forgotten, or perhaps she had never really known, how deeply hurt Brennan had been by Booth's _death_. "Oh, Sweetie, why can't you just apologize for upsetting him, tell him that you love him, and have hot, sweaty make-up sex?"

Angela was not prepared for Brennan's face to crumple and tears to appear at her eyes. "I can't handle losing him, Ange. I've lost him too many times. He's been blown up, kidnapped, put in comas. I don't know how to live without him in my life. I can't imagine how I would feel if we became romantically involved and I lost him."

"Temperance Brennan, you need to stop this. You are afraid of risking anything because you are scared that you will lose him, but you are all ready risking everything. Think of all of the happiness that you are missing out on by not giving him a chance. Think of how nice it would be to come home after a bad day at work and have him hold you in his arms. When you wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, I know that you have them, think about having him there next to you, calming you. Bren, he loves you and you love him, and you keep putting off happiness because you are scared of losing each other. You know better than anyone that life is short, so live it to the fullest. Stop caring about your death and start caring about your life."

Angela sat back in her chair. She was exhausted, she had always wanted to say these things to Brennan and until now had never had the nerves to really go for it. She didn't care if she was being melodramatic, all that mattered was that the stoic scientist stood and smiled at the artist.

"I accept your logic. You are right. Now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere I need to be."

Angela nodded and waved her hand at the door. "Go get him."

* * *

><p>Brennan marched into the Hoover, ignoring the greetings of those that knew her. Her singular focus did not bother any of them, they were used to it. However, there was something about her expression that made them notice and follow her. They watched her as she walked into Booth's office. He was pacing the floor, clearly still upset.<p>

His partner's voice called his name and he stopped and turned to face her. She stepped towards him. He tried to apologize for manhandling her earlier, but before he could form a full sentence her lips crashed onto his and her arms wrapped around his body. He was blown away by the kiss and took a long moment before he responded to her overture. They kissed until the need for fresh air became stronger than the want to keep kissing.

Booth stumbled back a bit as his partner released him. "Wow."

"I'm sorry, Booth."

"Sorry for what, Bones?"

"For upsetting you earlier, for not acknowledging your feelings, for..."

Booth stepped towards Brennan and pulled her into a hug. "You know what I'm sorry for?"

"What?"

"For not telling you that I loved you sooner. Bones, I love you and I want us to make this work. I don't want to waste anymore time."

"Neither do I. I've been so scared of losing you that I never gave us a chance."

Booth pulled her closer and kissed her temple. "Temperance, I don't know how long we'll have together, but I do know that every second that I have left on this Earth, I want to spend it with you."

Brennan blushed a bit, "I feel the same way."

"Come on, Bones. Let's get out of here."

"Angela said that you would want to make out like teenagers in the back of your SUV? Is that where we are going?"

Booth shook his head, "It's an idea, but I was thinking that we need to get out of here before the other agents start collecting bets. You did just plant one on me in broad daylight in the middle of the Hoover."

If possible, Brennan blushed deeper. "Yes, I think it would be wise to go elsewhere."

"I'm hungry. Diner?"

"Yes, I wouldn't mind a bite of your pie."

* * *

><p>Brennan did get a taste of Booth's pie... eventually.<p> 


	5. Prozvonit

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Chapter Five: Prozvonit

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><p>Prozvonit:<em> Czech<em> – This word means to call a mobile phone and let it ring once so that the other person will call back, saving the first caller money. In Spanish, the phrase for this is "Dar un toque," or, "To give a touch."

* * *

><p>The Squint Squad was gathered at the platform pouring over yet another set of remains. They were deep into the investigation of a serial killer who targeted women in positions of power. Vibrant women at the top of their fields: the president of one of the largest non-profits in Boston, the CFO of a Fortune 500 company in New York, a tenured professor in Philadelphia, and a neurosurgeon from Baltimore. The team was currently looking at the fourth body in connection with their gruesome case. It seemed like only a matter of time before the ruthless killer would hit DC and choose his next target. The team was doing everything in their power to make sure that there was no next victim.<p>

The seriousness of the investigation and the resourcefulness of their killer had heightened anxiety in the entire staff. Cam had ordered extra security for the lab, Hodgins had been threatening to hire a body-guard for Angela and this morning was a rare time when Booth wasn't at the Jeffersonian keeping an eye on his trouble-loving partner.

The Jeffersonian members of the team were shared information that they had gathered on their fourth victim. Hodgins was attempting to cross-reference particulates and try and find anything in common between all four victims. Angela was running analyses on any connection that could be found between the victims according to searchable records. Arastoo was cataloging bone injuries on the skeleton while Brennan analyzed the skull and the fracture pattern that had been found at its base.

Brennan's cellphone rang once and the lab members looked up from their various pursuits at the noise. The phone did not ring a second time and Brennan turned back to her remains. Angela looked at her friend. "Aren't you going to see who that was?"

"No. Did you have the results from your analysis yet?"

Angela raised an eyebrow, but let this unusual occurrence slide. "Twenty minutes, thirty tops."

Brennan nodded as she snapped off her gloves. "Very good, I'll be in my office if anyone needs me."

* * *

><p>Twenty-seven minutes later, Angela was halfway through a report that the New York and Philadelphia victims had been in the same sorority but three years apart, and that the neurosurgeon had been a major contributor at one time to the Boston victim's charity. They were tenuous connections, but it was a jumping off point. Angela was about to explain her next steps when Brennan's cell rang again. Once again, the phone rang only a single time, and then fell silent. And once again, Brennan ignored the call. Angela set her tablet down and faced the scientist.<p>

"Sweetie, that is the second time today that someone has called you and hung up."

"The fourth actually, you were not present for the other calls."

"You aren't worried?"

"No, and you shouldn't worry either. It is none of your concern."

Angela scoffed, "Of course it is my concern. We are dealing with a conniving serial killer, and you are just his type. I'm not standing by and letting something happen to you."

Brennan looked pointedly at the artist. "Angela, I can take care of myself. Please, don't worry about me."

Angela sighed, "Fine, fine. But promise me that you will tell Booth if it happens again. The thought of someone stalking you really creeps me out. I don't like it when you are in danger. I have goosebumps just thinking about it."

Brennan nodded and turned back to her computer monitor and Angela took that as her excuse to go. Angela stared at her friend for a few long moments before exiting the room, the anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach would just not go away on demand.

* * *

><p>Sweets swung by the lab to discuss the case and share the profile that he had modified upon the discovery of the latest victim and the data that the team had collected. He knocked on Brennan's office door, intending to say hello. Her phone rang once just as he entered into the office. She greeted him warmly and ignored the phone which had stopped ringing just as suddenly as it had started.<p>

Sweets squinted at the phone, and a look of concern passed over his face. "Dr. Brennan, I don't mean to pry, but is someone still calling you and hanging up on you?"

Brennan ignored the question and tried to focus the psychologist on the current case. He would not be distracted.

"Dr. Brennan, I'm concerned. Yesterday, at lunch your phone rang three times and you ignored it. You told me that you get calls like that all of the time. But that's never been the case until recently. I'm very concerned."

"Thank you for your concern, Dr. Sweets, but it is nothing to worry about."

Sweets' face did not lose it's concerned expression, and his brow wrinkled even further. "Did you talk to Agent Booth about this yet? He does work for the FBI, he can trace those calls."

Brennan raised an eyebrow. "Don't you also work for the FBI, Sweets?"

Sweets blushed and stammered, "I do, but that is really... umm... well, it's a Booth kind of thing. Really, Dr. Brennan, you should tell him. He would want to know."

Brennan nodded, "I appreciate the advice. Now did you have something of value to contribute to our case?

Sweets sighed and opened the file.

* * *

><p>It was the end of what most people would consider a long day, and Brennan was just about to order dinner and get back to her exploration of the bodies. She figured that she could work another three or four hours before she would need to consider sleeping. Her plans were interrupted by her partner bringing in a box of take-out.<p>

"Hey, Bones. I brought food. I figured you hadn't eaten yet."

"No, I was just about to order something, but this is better. Thank you, Booth."

"Anytime, Bones, anytime."

The duo settled onto the couch and began sharing their meal, catching each other up on their day and the case. Booth had just tossed his partner a fortune cookie, when she changed the subject.

"Booth, you need to stop calling me and hanging up after one ring. You are scaring Angela and Sweets. They think that I have a stalker. They are very concerned for my safety."

Booth chuckled as he pressed his lips to her lips. "I'm sorry that I scared Angela, you could have told her that it was me calling you. No need to worry her. Or Sweets."

Brennan returned the kiss with one of her own. "You really want me to tell them that you and I have entered into a mutually satisfying sexual relationship, and that in your efforts to waste my valuable time, you have been calling me every time that you miss me?"

Booth once again pecked at her lips, "I can't help it that I miss you. We barely saw each other today. And I didn't get to have lunch with you yesterday, I've been going through Bones withdrawal."

Brennan corrected him. "We spent a significant amount of time together in bed this morning." Booth grinned at the memory.

"Look, Bones, I know that you wanted to wait to tell them all that we are together until after we have closed the case, but I can't help it. I don't want to hold it in anymore. I love you and you love me and I just want to tell the whole world. And when we are apart, I miss you and just want you to know that I am thinking about you."

"Yes, you just try to distract me by calling me every fifteen minutes."

Booth smiled his most charming smile aimed at his partner, "I'm just trying to bring a little bit of romance into your life. And, I know eventually you will call me back, and I'll get the chance to tell you that I miss you and I love you."

Brennan huffed a bit, but still closed the gap between them once more. "I did miss you today, you know. I liked knowing that you cared, even if it did unsettle our friends and even if it did distract me from the case. I think I would like you to continue to call me when you miss me." Booth attempted to respond, but was stopped by his partner who was giving him a shy smile. "It's getting late. Would you like to continue this discussion elsewhere?"

Booth nodded as he stole one last kiss, "Sure thing, Temperance. My place or yours?"


	6. Cafuné

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Author's Note: This chapter contains spoilers from The Hole in the Heart. The episode was so great, that I had to throw in a little tribute, but I already had another idea for this chapter. So lucky readers, I gave you both. Enjoy.

Chapter Six: Cafuné

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><p>Cafuné: Brazilian Portuguese – The act of tenderly running one's fingers through someone's hair.<p>

* * *

><p>She can still remember the first time that it happened.<p>

The team had closed their case and gone out for celebratory drinks. The evening had ended early, as everyone else seemed to already have plans. As usual, Booth and Brennan ended up chatting together on the street corner outside the Founding Fathers. Eventually, they found themselves lacing their arms together and walking down the practically empty street. They talked about the case and the unseasonably warm weather. The partners turned a random corner and continued walking. It was a nice night, and while neither of them could come up with a good reason to stay together, they also didn't find an excuse to separate.

The blinking lights of an old movie theater gained their attention. Booth glanced at his watch and then asked Brennan if she was up for a movie. Brennan shrugged her assent. The night was still young by their standards. Booth stood in the short line for two tickets while Brennan glanced at the vintage posters that lined the building.

Booth snuck up behind his partner, "Are you sure that you don't believe in fate, Bones?"

"You know I don't. Why did you ask?"

Booth flashed a cocky grin. "You'll never guess what is playing."

"The Mummy's Hand with Chaney."

Booth pouted as Brennan pointed to the poster that had today's date and time printed underneath it. It had seemed like fate that had brought them to the theater where one of her favorite movies just happened to be playing, and maybe it was, but Brennan's practicality shrugged it off as mere coincidence.

Booth handed her a ticket stub and they headed into the theater. It was dimly lit with red carpets and walls. Gold lighting fixtures accented the ceilings. The partners both appreciated the atmosphere as Booth entered the line for popcorn and Snow Caps. Brennan argued that they didn't need any food, but Booth just shook his head and told her that it was movie tradition, everyone needed popcorn. He handed the bucket to his partner while he worked on opening up the plastic packaging that surrounded his chocolate treats.

They settled on seats toward the back of the theater in the middle of the row. The room was surprisingly crowded and Brennan commented that she was pleased that so many people appreciated the film. Booth nodded in agreement and settled into the chair as the lights dimmed and the credits rolled.

He didn't pay much attention to the movie at first. He watched his partner as she leaned forward in her seat. She mouthed along to all of the words, absently munching the buttery popcorn without ever offering him a piece. He didn't mind, because he found her so adorable. He tried to remember before his tumor, had he ever thought of her as "cute" before his coma dream? He had always been attracted to her, she was gorgeous after all. But had he ever had the chance to just appreciate those moments when she let her guard down and let her simple charm shine through? Of course, he had noticed it the night of the Egyptian gala, but he must have noticed it before his surgery. A loud noise on the screen pulled him from his musings and he began to focus on the film.

Booth stretched, the only disadvantage of an old fashioned movie theater was the not so gently used seats with their uneven padding and lack of lumbar support. He straightened his arms over his head and then pulled them apart, resting each arm on the seat back of the chair next to him. He chuckled a bit at the patented teenage date move, but as his partner was still leaning so far forward in her seat, picking out the last bits of popcorn from the remaining kernels, he wasn't exactly expecting any action.

He continued to watch the movie, so caught up in the drama that he didn't notice when Brennan finally gave up on the empty tub of popcorn and had leaned back into her seat. She did notice Booth's arm, but said nothing. She would never admit it, but his arm felt nice around her back, supporting her neck. Without another thought, she returned her focus to the movie which was now reaching its conclusion.

Brennan felt something tickle her. Without moving, she tensed a bit and analyzed the feeling. Booth's arm was still draped across her chair, but his hand had moved. He was now playing with the ends of her hair, letting the strands slide between his fingers. She relaxed her muscles and shifted her eyes to her partner. His eyes were glued to the silver screen in front of him, he seemed to be completely unaware that he was gently brushing her hair with his fingers. She contemplated whispering his name and asking him what he was doing, but instead just relaxed a bit more into the chair and enjoyed the warmth of Booth's arm and the tenderness of the unconscious gesture.

Just before the film came to an end, Booth seemed to realize what he was doing. He abruptly dropped the silky strand in his possession and as smoothly but as quickly as possible retrieved his arm and placed it in his lap. He glanced one look at his partner, but she remained focused on the last moments of the movie and her expression did not give anything away. Her face did not give away the sense of loss that she actually felt inside. It had felt nice, him tenderly running his fingers through her hair, even if it was something that an agent usually did not do with his partner.

Several patrons clapped as the final scene ended and the lights began to come back on. Booth shook off the feeling of unease from the realization of his loss of control over his hand and the anthropologist's inevitable reaction, but Brennan just commented that she enjoyed the film and asked his opinion of it. Booth smiled his charm smile and led his partner out of the crowd.

Brennan hailed a cab once they were outside the theater, she opened the back door and was halfway in before saying goodnight to Booth. "This was fun. We should do it again sometime."

"Sure, Bones. According to the posters, The Mummy's Ghost is playing tomorrow night. You in?"

"I have no other plans. I would enjoy watching the film."

"Sounds good. Maybe we can grab dinner before hand."

The cab driver honked his horn lightly and Brennan smiled as she got further into the taxi. "Yes, that would be acceptable. Good night, Booth." The door closed and the cab sped down the street.

They managed to see both sequels to the film that weekend, enjoying their time together. However, both were disappointed when Booth kept his fingers to himself and his own bucket of popcorn. It was just too dangerous to allow himself the freedom to keep on running his fingers through her hair. And it was ridiculous to think that she would ever ask for a repeat performance as the lights dimmed and the theater darkened.

* * *

><p>She won't forget the second time that it happened.<p>

She had come to him in the night, upset over the death of her intern and he had offered words of comfort. She found herself crying on his shoulder as he pulled her down onto the bed. She let out a few sobs as he held her close as he continued to soothe her. She placed her palm on his chest and her head rested over his heart. She attempted to let the steady beat calm her, but it only served to remind her that Broadsky's bullet could have easily pierced his aorta, that it could have been Booth's blood on her hands, again. It could have been Booth's heart that was no longer beating in his chest. As upset as she was over Vincent, she couldn't help but feel gratitude that she still had her partner.

Booth continued to rub her back as silent tears continued to fall. Another sob escaped from Brennan and he squeezed her a bit tighter, his hand migrating up. He gently caressed her scalp and like once long ago, Booth found his fingers stroking the soft strands. He didn't stop the motion even as she finally calmed and her even breathing hinted that she was finally sleeping. He started to slow down the rhythm that he had set as exhaustion started to claim him.

A soft voice kept him from falling into his restless slumber, "Booth?"

His voice was equally quiet as he responded, "Yes, Bones."

"Thank you."

He contemplated asking her what she meant, but deep down, he knew. She was thanking him for everything, his friendship, his sense of duty, his feelings of guilt and loss, his faith, his unspoken but ever present love. All he could think to say was, "You're welcome."

She tilted her head up to him and he tilted his down. He closed the gap between their lips and kissed her, gently. They held their lips together for a moment that seemed to stretch into a lifetime. Eventually, Brennan pulled back and once again rested her head on his chest, entangling her legs with his own. No more words were spoken, but they both knew that this would not be the last time that they would be found in this position. Booth's hand returned to Brennan's weary head and continued to lightly touch her hair as the night and the darkness slowly faded away.


	7. Hyggelig

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Author's Note: I had the idea for the second half of this chapter before the finale, so it seemed like the appropriate time to post this word. This one is filled with spoilers for The Change in the Game. Also, I'm apparently on a second person grammar kick. Enjoy.

Chapter Seven: Hyggelig

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><p>Hyggelig: <em>Danish<em> – Its "literal" translation into English gives connotations of a warm, friendly, cozy demeanor, but it's unlikely that these words truly capture the essence of a hyggelig; it's likely something that must be experienced to be known. I think of good friends, cold beer, and a warm fire.

* * *

><p>She had been acting strangely, apprehensive about Angela and Hodgins' baby, and you couldn't figure out why. She should have been happy for your friends who had just had an adorable, healthy, baby boy. And then she told you. You were going to be a father again.<p>

One night together filled with comfort and love and you had created a life. You hadn't even taken her out for a real dinner, you hadn't even talked about what that night meant and the subtle yet earth-shattering shift in your relationship. You had only spent the one night together and now she was telling you that you were having a baby.

She gave her crooked smile, one filled with relief when you smiled at the news. Well, you didn't so much smile as grin like an idiot and then grabbed her in a hug so strong that she had joked that you were squeezing the fetus. Then you had kissed her and taken her back to her apartment where you spent the night together, talking about the future.

You didn't resolve much that night, just the most important things. That you loved her and the feelings were returned, that you were happy about this news. You soothed her fears that she wasn't meant to be a mother, that the long forgotten desire had been a brief fever dream and that she had woken up. You convinced her that she would be a wonderful mother because she already loved the tiny ball of cells that was your child. As a pair you decided that you would wait a little longer to tell Parker, but that you would do it together. And finally, you were going to take her out to dinner on Saturday and every Saturday from now on.

You didn't discuss marriage, or how your were going to tell the FBI or the Jeffersonian. You didn't discuss field work or how the work partnership was going to change, you had talked enough for one night. You both knew that you were going to have many more discussions, but for now you were both exhausted. She spent the night wrapped in your arms, and you took a while to fall asleep afraid that when you woke up, it would all be a dream. But she was still cuddled into your side when you woke up the next morning and as the days passed you still found yourself waking up next to her.

Most days it still feels like a dream. You still bicker about the same things, but you bicker about other things as well. She still wants to go out into the field, you want her to stay in the lab. You win some of the arguments, but most of the time you cave and use your sniper instincts to keep her and your child safe. You bicker over whose apartment you are going to spend the night at, what you are going to eat for dinner, if the baby will be baptized. But every night you fall asleep together, content and dreaming sweet dreams. It isn't the life that you expected, it's somehow better.

* * *

><p>It's an ordinary Saturday, the newest and best version of ordinary. Parker is at your apartment, sitting on the floor with his back resting against the couch. His gaming device beeps on occasion and he groans every time his character dies. You have the television on low, watching sports highlights that you aren't all that interested in. The newscasters seem to have something against Pennsylvania teams, those heartless bastards. You find yourself drifting off to sleep, when you feel something shift beside you.<p>

It had become so familiar these past few weeks, Brennan curled next to you on the couch, catching up on her endless anthropology journals. You have sat together for hours, allowing this small bit of domesticity creep into your life. It has happened more than once, you falling asleep to the drone of the television while she focuses on the glossy paper in front of her. Your hand drifts to her firm abdomen. She is beginning to show, which unnerves her, but makes you feel a bit giddy.

You nuzzle into her neck and whisper in her ear. "How's our girl doing today?"

She sets her journal in her lap, it is another frequent point that you bicker about. "You know that it is too early to tell the sex of the baby."

"My gut tells me its a girl, and you know my gut. You trust my gut, even if you won't admit it."

"Well you have a fifty percent chance of being right. I suppose that is an accurate enough estimate for it being a gastro-intestinal tract."

You smile and stroke your fingers across her stomach. She hums a bit at the sensation. She won't admit it but she likes it when you tease your hand across the growing bump. She closes the article, setting it on the coffee table next to her long abandoned mug of tea. She leans back into you, closing her eyes.

"You tired, Bones?"

She nods and inhales, deeply. She also won't admit it, but she finds your scent comforting, just like you find her scent irresistible. "A little."

"Go ahead and take a nap. We'll be here when you wake up."

"I don't want to ruin the afternoon plans." She raises her head and addresses your son. "Parker, would it be alright if we postpone our trip to the exhibit until tomorrow. I didn't anticipate being so exhausted."

Parker pauses his game and turns around. "No, that's cool. I'm pretty beat too. We can still get pizza for dinner tonight, right?"

Brennan smiles, agrees, and leans back into your chest. Within moments her breath evens out and you know that she has fallen asleep. You continue to make lazy circles along your partner's stomach. Parker's beeping continues, and the television switches to footage of men hauling semi-trucks. Once again you feel your own eyes drift closed. You'll just rest your eyes for a few minutes, and then you will order some pizza. You anticipate many more lazy weekends like this, just being together, the four of you. A smile creeps onto your face as you escape to dreamland.

You feel at ease, cozy, safe and loved. Most of all you feel _home_.


	8. Jayus

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Author's Note: While I was truly inspired for the premise behind these stories, a few of the words were a creative stretch. This word is one such stretch. I hope you still enjoy.

Chapter 8: Jayus

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><p>Jayus: <em>Indonesian<em> – "A joke so poorly told and so unfunny that one cannot help but laugh"

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><p>"Orange you glad I didn't say banana?" Parker burst into a fit of giggles at revealing the punch line. Brennan's brow furrowed as she looked at the boy. When she didn't laugh Parker tried to explain. "Don't you get it, Bones? Orange? It's like aren't? Orange you glad I didn't say banana? Aren't you glad I didn't say banana, again? The whole point is that you are tired of hearing the word banana. So I said orange. Get it?"<p>

Finally, Brennan's brow uncrinkled and she let out a hearty laugh. She kept laughing and had to catch her breath as she explained back to Parker, why the joke had been amusing. "It... is... clever because... it... is... a play... on words."

Now it was Parker's turn to look confused. "Isn't that what I said?" A slow smile spread on his face at the amusement on Brennan's face. He liked hearing her laugh.

The loud closing of a door interrupted the conversation, accompanied by the smell of Chinese. Booth called into the apartment as he made his way to his two favorite people. "Sorry, guys. Sid's got a new delivery boy. Apparently, he isn't very skilled at telling left from right, or reading maps. I think it's still warm, so we should probably dig..." His voice trailed off when he caught his partner still laughing and wiping a stray tear from her eye. "Buddy, what is up with Bones?"

Parker shrugged, "I was trying to tell her a knock, knock joke."

Booth groaned, "Bones, please tell me you have heard of a knock, knock joke before."

With one last gasp, Brennan turned to the agent. "Yes, Russ used to try to tell them to me as a child, but I never found them amusing. There was one about an interrupting cow that I remember. In the middle of it, he would moo at me. I found it quite rude."

Parker grinned, "Oh I like that one. It's always funny. Hey here's a good one. Knock, knock."

Booth rolled his eyes as Brennan turned serious eyes to the boy, eager to try out the newly remembered protocol. "Who's there?"

"Little old lady."

"Little old lady who?"

"Wow, Bones, I didn't know you could yodel!" Parker looked at her expectantly, waiting for the punch-line to sink in. Booth shook his head and set the food on the table, making his way to the kitchen to grab plates and utensils. He had just opened the fridge to remedy the beverage situation when he once again heard his partner's choking laughter. As Booth returned to the room laden with a six-pack of root beer balanced in one hand and the plates on the other, he was surprised by Brennan standing next to him explaining why Parker's joke was so amusing.

Booth handed over the drinks, "Yeah. I've heard it before. You don't need to explain the jokes. When they are funny, people laugh. But knock, knock jokes, by definition, they aren't funny. You don't laugh."

Brennan quirked an eyebrow, "But they are called jokes, why aren't you supposed to laugh?"

"Cause they are awful puns and stupid plays on words. You are just supposed to groan and walk away."

Parker grabbed a fork and the carton labelled with a 'P' and a smiley face. "Dad. Be nice. If Dr. Bones wants to laugh, let her laugh."

Brennan tilted her head, "Thank you, Parker. It is nice to know that one Booth supports me."

Booth settled into his chair, heavily. "Wait a minute. Just to be clear, I will always have Bones' back. We are partners."

Parker rolled his eyes and slurped up a noodle, "Jeez, Dad. I know. Get a sense of humor."

Booth's response was to flick a peanut from the Kung Pao chicken at the boy's face. "Just you wait, kid, until your hockey team gets off to a bad start and you get the 'Owen' jokes."

Parker looked up from his dinner. "Owen jokes?"

"Yeah. Knock, knock. Who's there? Owen. Owen who? Owen two or three or ten. All depends how bad your team is."

Brennan looked up from her fried rice. "Oh, I understand. A way of reporting a team's statistics is to announce the number of wins followed by the numbers of losses and ties, if applicable. A team that is winless is zero and however many losses you have. That is very clever. O and ten. That would be a very bad team." She chuckled a bit and went back to her rice. The silence of the room drew her attention, and she noticed both Booths staring at her.

Parker's lower jaw was unhinged. "Did you just explain a sports joke to us, Bones?"

Brennan shrugged, "I have been studying various cultures for many years. Although I don't quite see the appeal, the prevalence of sports in our present day culture is something that I have attempted to understand. And I do find the various statistics and mathematical applications involved to be quite stimulating."

Booth turned back to his chicken, "Way to take the fun out of it, Bones. You are telling me that you now enjoy sports because of the math?"

Brennan nodded. "Observing your hockey games I have come to appreciate the physics involved and have noticed the importance of angles and force. Did you know that you score eight percent of the time when you shoot from an angle of less than sixty degrees from your left side, but only two percent of the time when the angle is greater than that?"

Booth set down the egg roll that he had been attempting to eat. "OK, math and sports, I'm in. After dinner you are going to tell me everything that you know about the shooting percentages of the entire team. I know that you have the entire thing in your pretty little head. Then I am going to use that information to slaughter the LEOs next week. I'm telling you Bones, my skills and your brains. It's always a winning combination."

Brennan nodded, "You should ask Hodgins about it too. He has all of the data that he has collected entered into a spreadsheet. He tried to show it to you once, but you told him that he was being too squinty and to stop pestering you with mumbo jumbo."

Parker joined back in the conversation, sighing a bit at his father's obtuseness. "Dad, I know they are the smart ones, so why don't you listen to them? They'd be the best coaches on Earth. Hey, Bones? Can you come to my next hockey game and tell me what my team does? Coach would be really impressed, if I could tell him that sort of stuff."

Brennan beamed, "Yes, I would be happy to attend your next competition and give you a report of my findings."

"Thanks!" Parker looked at his empty container. "Well, I'm done. Ice cream, anyone?"

Brennan declined, but Booth's bottomless pit thought that a scoop of chocolate would round out his meal nicely. The trio sat around the table and chatted, enjoying spending time together, until Parker yawned and Booth decided that it was bedtime. The boy hopped off to his room after giving the anthropologist a hug and a promise to have his dad bring Brennan to the next game. Booth smiled at the pair, appreciating the scene.

Brennan watched the boy leave and turned to her partner. "Thank you for inviting me to dinner. I had a very nice evening." Booth nodded and helped his partner shrug into her coat. "I appreciated Parker's jokes. He is a very amusing child."

"Yeah, he is. Thanks for coming by. I'm glad you were here, it was a fun night." Booth reached out and pulled out a strand of hair that was caught under Brennan's collar. She smiled her thanks and tried to open the door. She was stopped by the agent. "Hey, before you go! I've got a good one. Knock, knock."

Brennan sighed, but played along. "Who's there?"

"Interrupting Booth." Brennan eyed him suspiciously.

"Interrupting Boo..." She was cut off by the press of Booth's lips on her own. It was merely a peck, close-mouthed and chaste. Booth was sorely tempted to deepen the kiss, but Brennan pulled away, laughing.

"That was very humorous. Interrupting Booth. You did interrupt me. That was a good one. Very clever." She laughed again. "Goodnight, Booth. I'll see you tomorrow for lunch."

She let herself out of the door, and Booth relaxed against the shut door and sighed. He hadn't meant it as a joke. He'd never been more serious about anything in his life.

He shook his head and let out a chuckle. Maybe someday, she'd get the punchline.


	9. Saudade

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Author's Note: This chapter was originally written for Ya'aburnee, but I like it better here. Enjoy.

Chapter Nine: Saudade

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><p>Saudade: <em>Portuguese<em> – One of the most beautiful of all words, translatable or not, this word "refers to the feeling of longing for something or someone that you love and which is lost." Fado music, a type of mournful singing, relates to saudade.

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><p>"Angela, where's Bones? I wanted to take her to lunch."<p>

Angela looked up from her monitor and took in the sight of the tall FBI agent. He was out of his suit, wearing a familiar leather jacket and looking as handsome as ever. She didn't know how Brennan could only be partners with a man as good-looking as Booth. Angela sighed, it wasn't just the nice face and the strong body, it was the man inside that was equally attractive. The artist couldn't understand how after all of this time, Brennan could still resist his charms. Angela shook her head sadly at the waiting agent.

"Sorry, Booth. She isn't here."

"Where is she? She usually tells me when she has a meeting with her publisher or her anthropology nerds."

Angela turned back to the monitor, she suddenly wanted to avoid his gaze. "Don't you know what day it is?" Booth's eyebrow raised in confusion. He wracked his brain, but came up with nothing. Angela took pity on the man, "It's her mother's birthday."

Booth gulped, he should have known. Brennan had been distant the past week. He had tried to needle the reason out of her, but she had just withdrawn farther into her shell. She was becoming a bit impervious again, and he wasn't sure how to help her. Finally deciding that he had had enough, he had taken a rare day off from work and had come to the lab to whisk Brennan away for lunch and an afternoon of distraction. But now, he felt awful that he hadn't been able to put together the pieces of the complex puzzle that was his partner's life.

Angela's voice broke him out of his reverie. "Booth, she doesn't really tell people about stuff like that. You know that. Don't worry about it. When she's ready to talk, she'll talk."

Booth grunted an acceptance of what Angela was saying, but said nothing else. He merely slipped out the office door. Angela looked up from her monitor when she heard it shut behind him. She sighed again and turned back to her work, those two were going to be the death of her.

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><p>Brennan stood at her mother's grave, a bundle of locally grown flowers in her hand. She felt silly standing there, holding the fragrant bouquet and letting her mind read the words inscribed on the headstone over and over again. She continued staring at the headstone while she gathered her courage to speak.<p>

A beam of sunlight broke through the clouds. Although Brennan did not believe in signs, she took it as her cue to start speaking. "Hi, Mom." She inhaled and exhaled deeply. "Happy Birthday. I know it's silly to be here, you can't hear me. You are dead. But, umm, these are for you. I'm told that it is the polite thing to do." She hastily set the flowers against her mother's headstone and stood back up.

"Hey, Sweetheart. I thought I'd find you here today. Hoped, anyway."

Brennan turned her head and faced her father. "Hi, Dad."

Max Keenan placed a gentle hand on his daughter's shoulder before leaning over his wife's headstone and placing a small sculpted glass dolphin at the base of the memorial. Max's hand now swept over the top of the stone. "I miss you everyday, Baby. I love you. Happy Birthday." He pressed his fingers to his lips and then quickly brushed them over the script of his wife's name. Then the man straightened up and stepped back to his daughter.

Brennan surprised her father by stepping to his side and resting her head against his shoulder. "How do you do it, Dad?"

"What do you mean?"

"Go on everyday without her?" Brennan gestured at the grave in front of her.

Max sighed before speaking, unwilling to give his usual flippant response. "I won't lie to you, it's very hard. It's as if my heart has a hole in it, a space that she used to fill, and when she died, that hole was what was left. It gets a little smaller every day, but it's always there. But life moves on, and she wants me to enjoy it. I have you and Russ and his girls, that's all I really need now."

"I just don't know how you do it. How do you go on without the woman that you... the person that you..." She couldn't finish her sentence, but her father knew her well.

"The person that I love?"

Her voice was practically a whisper, "Yes."

"Oh, honey. You really love him, don't you?"

They both knew who the _him_ was. She just nodded. She wiped a few stray tears out of her eyes. "I had to live without him for two weeks, once, did you know that? He stepped in front of a bullet meant for me."

"Honey, you have to know that you are the woman that he loves, his partner, of course he would step in front of a bullet for you. I tried to do the same thing for your mother. I tried to protect her."

"I know, Dad. You would have saved her if you could have." She fell silent, but Max knew that she had more to say. He nudged her side, encouraging her to go on. "Booth had brain surgery, did you know that as well? He had an adverse reaction to his anesthesia and was in a coma for several days. I thought that he wasn't going to wake up."

"But he did wake up."

Brennan lifted her head off of her father's shoulder and stared off into the distance, appearing pensive. "We have dangerous jobs, what if I lose him again, permanently this time? I don't think that I could handle it."

"Yes, you could. You are the strongest person I know."

"What if he wakes up one day and decides that he doesn't love me anymore?"

"That is impossible. Anyone who really knows you, anyone who knows my Temperance, they love you. And trust me, once someone loves you, they can't stop."

Brennan thought ruefully of Hannah, and Max didn't miss the expression, even if he couldn't translate it. He tried a different tactic. "How long have you been friends with Angel?"

"Do you mean Angela? For over seven years."

"And has she ever stopped being your friend?"

"We did have a fight once, but we made up."

"See, there you go, Tempe. You have your friends, your family. We aren't going to leave you."

Brennan considered for a moment. "I'm just not strong enough, Dad. To do what you do everyday, to live without Mom. It's better for us to stay just partners. It's as far as I can let him in."

"It's your life, Tempe. But, I think that you are making a mistake. You love him, he loves you. Be honest with him. He knows you, he understands you. He will understand your fears, I'm sure he has his own. You're partners, you'll be there for each other."

Brennan continued to stand silently. Finally, she spoke, "I don't know how to talk to him, Dad. I don't know what to say."

Max unleashed his most charming smile. "Well, kiddo. I don't think that you will have to say much." Max pointed behind his daughter where Booth was leaning against a tree, holding a bouquet of daisies, looking unsure of himself.

Booth acknowledged the duo when Max waved him over and walked toward the headstone. He gently placed the flowers beside Brennan's and placed his own hand briefly on the carved stone. He backed up to his partner and stood quietly. She slowly leaned into him and he placed an arm around her waist.

"Thanks for coming, Booth."

"I'm always here for you, Temperance."

"I know that. I really do." Booth pulled her a bit tighter and Brennan rested her head on his shoulder.

They stood there, quietly until Brennan lifted her head to address her father, only to find that he had disappeared. She smiled to herself. He really was a wily old man.

Brennan slipped out of Booth's embrace and looked at his confused expression. Brennan reached for his hand. "Would you like to go somewhere and talk?"

Booth interlaced their fingers. "Sure, you hungry at all?"

"I could eat."

She stepped forward, keeping her hand interlocked with Booth's. She took her turn to trace her fingers over the top of the headstone. "Bye, Mom. I'll be back soon." Then she turned back to her partner and stepped close to him, their hands still connected.

Booth smiled as the sun continued to shine through the clouds in the sky, "It's a beautiful day out."

The smile was returned, "Yes, it is."


	10. Ilunga

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Author's Note: There is so much that I want to say about this chapter, but I think it speaks for itself. This is one of my favorites, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Chapter Ten: Ilunga

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><p>Ilunga: <em>Tshiluba<em> (Southwest Congo) – A word famous for its untranslatability, most professional translators pinpoint it as the stature of a person "who is ready to forgive and forget any first abuse, tolerate it the second time, but never forgive nor tolerate on the third offense."

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><p>Special Agent Seeley Booth sat on the bar stool and wallowed. If he was a woman he would have been bawling his eyes out watching some sappy movie while eating nothing but Ben and Jerry's. But he was a man, a guy's guy, and the solution to a tough break up was to drink. It was the second time in a week that he had gotten drunker than a skunk, but he didn't really care right now. He slammed back another shot, barely recognizing the burn of the alcohol as it coursed down his throat.<p>

He thought back on his life. He had accomplished a lot in his forty years: put killers behind bars, solved impossible mysteries, and performed his duty to his country. He had a son and a satisfying job, but it wasn't enough. He knew that he was talented, handsome, and kind, but it wasn't enough. Whatever he was, it was never enough to get a woman to stay, to want to be with him, forever.

Seeley Booth had kissed his first girl next to the water fountain in school when he was thirteen years old. And he hadn't really slowed down after his precocious beginning. He had two different personalities, the Lothario of the seventh grade and the scared boy who hid bruises and protected his younger brother. He continued his dual life for several more years. He wouldn't let himself open his heart, but the girls he picked never seemed to mind. He was the high school heart-throb and any girl considered herself lucky to go out on one date with Seeley Booth. They never learned his secrets, they never knew the real him.

And finally, his father was gone, and Pops was there. He no longer had to hide the physical bruises, he had to hide the emotional scars that had been left behind. He still didn't bring girls home, he contented himself under bleachers and in the back-seats of cars. He still lived two lives, not knowing how to reconcile the two very separate parts of his being.

The summer after graduation he was messing around on the basketball courts with Jared. They were trash-talking and horsing around when Jared tackled him the wrong way. He fell hard and heard something tear or pop, or crack. Perhaps all three. Jared illegally drove him to the hospital and sat with him while they waited for the news. Pops came in looking wild-eyed, but relieved when he saw his grandson in one piece. Still the news was devastating, Booth's basketball dreams and college scholarship were gone and Jared couldn't even meet his eyes. Booth took the blame for his own injury. It wasn't the first time that Booth took the hit for his little brother, and it wouldn't be the last.

It took two surgeries and several months of rehab before Booth felt like his old self. Well, his old two selves. College no longer interested him, and neither did the girls who remembered him so fondly and were home for various breaks from school. He spent months sitting on the couch watching the television and napping. And one morning he had seen his Pops looking at him with such sadness in his eyes.

The next morning Booth showered and dressed and walked into a recruiter's office. Three weeks later he went off to basic training and didn't look back. Furloughs were spent anywhere but home. He wasn't exactly sure why he chose Vegas or Atlantic City and sat at tables instead of sitting at home on the worn couch in Philadelphia. He was still leading two lives, he had traded girls for gambling. And now he hid the trauma of war and the ghosts of the men that he had killed and the friends that he had lost.

He met Camille Saroyan when he was twenty-three. She was a third-year medical student on a rotation and he was in a hospital after a weekend of debauchery with his brother. This time it was Jared in the hospital bed, his fake ID getting him into a bar and a brawl forcing him out of the seedy den and into the emergency room. Somehow, Jared looking pathetic in the bed and Seeley's willingness to take the blame made the younger brother the darling of the nurses on the floor, even the most jaded who had pumped enough stomachs and given enough IV fluid over the years to not even notice another drunk teenager.

Booth wasn't sure why he slept with Cam the first time. He had realized that alcohol was not going to heal him, he had no money in his pocket or in his checking account so gambling was out of the questions. He must have settled on his oldest of addictions, the warm embrace of a woman. They remained friends with benefits for several months. He floated in and out of her life while he finished up his duties with the army and went back to school as a Criminal Justice major. They would meet for dinner and wind up in bed together. She was the first person that he ever told about his abuse growing up, what he did as a soldier. She held him that night, and it was the last time that they found solace in each others arms until fate intervened over a decade later. She finished up med school and moved to DC, where she fell in love with a surgeon with a two-year old daughter. He took up pool.

He finished school and joined the FBI. He thrived, and as he moved through these ranks, he felt like he belonged. He atoned for his sins, let Karma right herself in his life. He was in a good place. And then he met Rebecca.

She was the first woman that he allowed himself to fall in love with. For the first time since he was a small child, he felt like one person. He didn't need to gamble or drink, or use women to hide his feelings. They were happy together. And then the stick turned blue.

He blurted out his proposal, and she looked at him with a smile as she gently shook her head and whispered "no." She had given him a precious gift, his son with the name he had chosen, but she took back her heart. He went back to the pool hall on occasion, but he had a child now and he vowed to be different than his own father. Things weren't always easy with Rebecca, she moved on and he didn't at first.

He gradually got back out in the dating world between rough cases and weekends with his son. He met Tessa, but he wasn't willing to love again. Not yet. He kept her at arm's length. Gemma Arrington's case file ended up on his desk, giving him a new purpose, a mystery to solve. It stayed on his desk for months, each lead getting him closer and then stalling him. One day his old friend Cam came to visit. After her residency and her messy break-up, she had moved to New York and become a coroner. And it was Cam who first mentioned the name of the second woman that he allowed himself to fall in love with.

Temperance Brennan. One case was all it took. She was intelligent and infuriating, passionate and beautiful. One kiss in the rain and he had seen his whole future, what his life could be. But she had gotten in a cab by herself and then picked fights with him. She finally slapped him, and stormed out of the Hoover building. It would be a year before he would see her again.

He had never forgotten their first kiss, but they both seemed determined to ignore it as if it had never happened. They continued to bicker and tease each other, but slowly they began to trust one another. They let each other in, as far as each of their damaged hearts would allow. They became best friends, partners. But the memory of her first rejection remained firm in his mind, and they never crossed the line between them.

He fell back into old habits. He didn't need the pool hall or a bottle of tequila, he once again found himself with Rebecca and then with Cam. He cared for both of them. One was the mother of his child, the other one of his oldest friends. Cam knew the majority of his secrets and it was easy and fun to be together. Even when he felt the sad eyes of his partner upon him. Howard Epps redrew the lines for Booth. Cam was placed forever in the friends category, and Bones once again became an impossibility.

Booth remembered mistletoe and Christmas trees. He thought of Sully and Hacker. There was her father's trial and his brain surgery. There were bullets and bombs. There was Sweets' interference and Zack's betrayal. So many events pushing them together and pulling them apart. And one night, he decided to gamble one more time, on them. He had kissed his partner and best friend. The woman that he loved. And she had told him "no" and asked to keep working together. He was heartbroken. He had allowed himself to fall in love again, allowed her to unknowingly heal some of his oldest wounds. She alone knew all of his secrets and he knew hers. They had shared everything, even a bed (although platonic and under the guise of undercover work). He had proposed a life together, and she had turned it down.

He had no choice but to accept it. He showed up for their next case, danced with her at her high school reunion, stood by her side in order to convict the Gravedigger, and let her go to Maluku. He got to hold her hand tightly, one last time, for the briefest of moments and let her go. It was the only thing he could do.

He was once again two people when he went back to the Army, now hiding the bruises of his broken heart. One side of him was the commanding officer who didn't even have to ask in order to have the respect of his trainees, the other was a homesick man who missed his regular job, his son, his friends, and his partner. And then Hannah appeared.

He saved her life, and she rewarded him. It had been a long time since he had sought a woman's arms as a source of comfort. She was all too willing to give it. Booth wasn't sure of how lust had turned to love, but it had. She helped heal his broken heart and followed him back to the States. It was flattering, and he had been downright giddy with her arrival in DC.

Months passed, his life had changed, but not all of it. He still had his job, his son, his friends. His partner. He wasn't naïve enough to miss the sad glances from his partner, and he always felt guilty when he noticed the looks. And his own heart broke a bit when he had to break her heart on a stormy night. He would always love Bones, but he had moved on. And one drunken night with Sweets, he decided that he had to prove that he had moved on.

For the third time in his life, Booth proposed to commit himself to life with a single woman. This was the first time that he had bought a ring for the occasion. It was the first time that he had planned what he was going to say. There was still a rather large dose of impulsiveness in the action, but he was going to romance the woman, take his time and give her his heart. And, for the third time, he had heard the word "no." He hid his heartbreak with anger and Hannah had left for good.

And that brought him back to the bar stool, he was currently sitting in. Three strikes and he was out. He felt the anger well up inside of him again, and hastily threw back another shot under the careful gaze of a disapproving bartender. He was dangerously close to losing control, close to splitting back into the two people that he had spent his life being. And then Bones had walked into the bar and sat beside him.

His partner, the woman that he had once loved, the one who had told him that she did in fact want a chance with him after he had already moved on, had walked into the bar. She was sitting next to him, wanting to console him, trying to ask if now that he was free if he could give her another chance. But he wasn't ready for that. He was so filled with anger. Anger at Hannah, anger at her, anger at himself.

He gave her an ultimatum, and she wasn't happy with either of her choices, but she remained sitting next to him, poured liquor down her throat and ordered another. She would stand by him, and he was grateful.

* * *

><p>It would take a stalled elevator, a burning candle, a sniper gone rogue, and the death of an intern before he finally let go of his anger. Booth found himself holding his partner in his arms as she cried.<p>

He couldn't stop himself from his past, from when he lived his life as two people. Old habits die hard, and he gambled one last time. "Do you believe in fourth chances?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, not quite knowing what he was referring to. But he felt himself exhale the breath that he had been holding when she snuggled into his chest, rested her palm over his heart and whispered, "Yes." She whispered "yes" again as she tilted her head in order to kiss him.

Their first tequila-infused kiss he had been forced to forget. Their second kiss had been a bribe that he had just had to accept. Their third kiss had broken his heart.

Their fourth kiss and his fourth chance, he couldn't describe. All he knew was the he had finally heard "yes." He felt whole and alive. And then two people finally became one.


	11. Tingo

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Author's Note: I'm over halfway done with this little challenge, I can't believe it. This one is short and cheesy. Just how I like it. Enjoy.

Chapter Eleven: Tingo

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><p>Tingo: <em>Pascuense<em> (Easter Island) – Hopefully this isn't a word you'd need often: "the act of taking objects one desires from the house of a friend by gradually borrowing all of them."

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><p>"Bones, have you seen my Army sweatshirt? You know the grey one, big black letters? I can't find it anywhere. I thought I left it on the couch the other day, but I don't see it."<p>

Brennan looked up from her case report and shrugged. She picked up her mug and carefully sipped at the hot liquid. "I haven't seen you wear it recently. I have no idea where it could be."

Booth looked pensive. "Hmm, maybe I left it in my gym locker. I'll have to check it out later. I just don't remember leaving it there. I don't know, it's been a long week. I'd have lost my own head if it wasn't attached."

Brennan just shrugged again and returned to her coffee. "Come on, Booth. You said that you actually wanted to help with the paperwork, that's why I'm here. It's getting late, and I'm tired."

"Yeah, yeah, Bones. Hold your horses. I'm coming."

Booth sat heavily on the sofa and reached for a stack of files, soon forgetting all about his lost sweatshirt. Brennan didn't even protest as he helped himself to some of her coffee before he delved into the paperwork.

* * *

><p>"Bones, have you seen my black and yellow striped socks? The Steelers are about to kick off. I need my lucky game day socks. They are the team's good luck charm."<p>

Brennan had just walked in the door, holding a casserole dish in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other. She set them down on the coffee table. "I just got here. How would I know where your ugly socks are?"

Booth met his partner's curious gaze. "You think my socks are ugly?"

"I've told you before that I think your striped socks are silly."

Booth rummaged through the couch cushions and lifted up the leg-rest of his recliner, still searching for his lost items. "You just don't get it. These are my lucky socks. The Steelers are worthless without them. Bones, this is the the biggest game of the year. I need my socks!"

Brennan looked thoughtful as she busied herself by pouring chips into a bowl. "Did you leave them at the laundromat? Perhaps they were left in the dryer or something? It's a rational explanation."

Booth pursed his lips, "Maybe. I just can't believe I lost them."

Brennan returned the cushions to their rightful place and sat at her usual spot. "Well, there is nothing that you can do about it now. Come on, Booth, I brought the seven-layer dip that you requested and was told that you were going to explain to me the cultural significance of your Wonderbowl."

Booth sighed and sat on the couch. "It's Superbowl, Bones, Superbowl."

"Yes, of course. Now can you please explain to me why so many people appear to be wearing slabs of cheese on their heads?"

* * *

><p>"I just don't get it."<p>

Brennan looked up from her computer monitor, "Don't get what, Booth?"

"I've been looking everywhere for my FBI t-shirt. You know the one that I wore to the zoo with you and Parker the other day?"

"The one that has the old ketchup stain on it?"

"Yeah, that's the one. I took it off when we got back to my place so I could change when we got called for that body dump. I know that I left it on the floor in the bathroom, cause I was in a rush and I came back to get it later and it had disappeared."

Brennan turned back to her monitor, "Booth, its a ragged old shirt. It has a stain on it and the hem was starting to come undone. Why do you even care?"

"It's sentimental. It was the first shirt that I got after being accepted at the Bureau. The ketchup stain, that's from Parker's first hot dog from the first ever ball game that I took him to. I ripped the hem playing catch with him in the park one time. It has memories."

Brennan's lips pursed. "Well, Parker did use your bathroom before we took him back to Rebecca's, and he had a bag with him, perhaps he took it for some reason."

Booth's brow furrowed. "It doesn't seem like Parker. He doesn't take things that don't belong to him, or take things without asking."

"He is reaching his teenage years, perhaps he has started testing boundaries. But honestly, Booth. It was just a shirt."

Booth sat on the couch in her office and rested his chin on his hands. "Right, it's just a shirt."

* * *

><p>"Bones? What are you wearing?"<p>

"A sweatshirt, it's chilly in my apartment, I turn the thermostat down while I am at work in order to conserve energy. Don't worry, it will warm shortly."

Booth blinked at her in disbelief. "That is my Army sweatshirt. I thought I lost it _years_ ago, but you've had it the whole time."

She shrugged, "You left it balled up under the couch. I dropped my pen and found it. I didn't think that you wanted it anymore, so I put it in my bag and took it home. You didn't ask about it until I'd already had it for a week. And you didn't ask about it again, so I kept it. It's very warm."

"Yeah, I know it's warm. It's _my_ sweatshirt."

"I just borrowed it. You can have it back." She started to peel off the sweatshirt, but he stopped her.

"Keep it. It's yours now." He paused for a moment, and something clicked in his brain. "Oh no, Bones. _You_ didn't. You _didn't_." He jumped up from the couch in her living room and bolted into her bedroom.

She was calling after him when she heard the rattle of dresser drawers. "Booth, what are you doing in my room?" She knew what he was looking for, but it didn't mean that she wanted him to rummage through her personal property. She followed him into the room. Articles of clothing now littered the floor as he emptied drawers. He opened the top level and saw what he was searching for.

"You took my socks! My good luck socks. I didn't leave them at the laundromat. _You_ took them!"

Brennan's cheeks pinked, "We were going over paperwork and your laundry basket was just sitting next to the couch. They were right on top, and you had so many pairs, just sitting there."

"You've told me that you think my socks are stupid."

"But they are very Boothy. I didn't think that you would miss one pair. I didn't realize that they were so important to you."

"Bones, the Steelers _lost_!" Booth continued to whine over the loss of his favorite team.

"I'm sorry, but I don't see how the socks that you were wearing could have any bearing on a game being played one thousand miles away from you. So I didn't tell you that I was the one who took them."

"And my shirt, I assume it's around here somewhere?"

Brennan sighed and opened her closet. There it was right in the center of her closet. She reverently took it off the hanger, folded it neatly and handed it to him. When he made eye contact with her, he was startled to see tears in her eyes.

"Bones, what's wrong?" He dropped the shirt on her bed and stood in front of her.

"I'm so sorry that I took your shirt, and that I suggested Parker took it. It was wrong of me to take it, and wrong of me not to give it back when you told me how much it meant to you. And it was especially wrong of me to blame your son."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you take it?"

"Because it smelled like you." Booth used his thumb to wipe away a tear on her cheek as she again whispered an apology.

"Bones, baby. Why didn't you just tell me?"

She sighed and looked at her shoes. "You were still angry, and I had had such fun with you and Parker that day, and it was like old times, before I went to Maluku. And I had missed you all those months that you were with Hannah. And I saw it just lying there, and it smelled like you. So I took it, and I didn't want to give it back, it was selfish of me."

Booth pulled her into a brief but fierce hug before releasing her and peeling off his leather jacket.

Brennan looked up in surprise. "What are you doing?"

"Trading shirts."

"I don't know what that means."

"This one that I'm wearing smells like me, and the FBI shirt smells like you. Seems like a fair trade to me."

He pulled off his Zeppelin shirt and exchanged it for the worn and beloved FBI one. He took a moment to inhale her lingering scent on the collar before replacing his jacket. Brennan stared at him in disbelief. "You aren't mad at me?"

He stepped closer to her and placed his still warm shirt in her hands. "Well, I _am_ taking my lucky socks back. You can have my blue striped ones. I just washed them and they are sitting on top of my laundry basket at home. You'll like them, they are very soft, _very_ Boothy. And like I said, you can keep the sweatshirt. It looks better on you than it ever did on me."

Brennan sniffled once and smiled. "Thank you, Booth."

"And for the record, you can borrow anything of mine that you want. Anytime that you want. Just, you know, let me know next time. I really thought for a while that I was being haunted by laundry gremlins."

Brennan continued to smile as she carefully folded his shirt and placed it on her bed. She ran her hand along the soft fabric once more before responding. "I don't think that there are any such entities as laundry gremlins."

"Sure there are, Bones. I just caught one."

A pillow flying in his face was her only response.


	12. Tartle

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Author's Note: It was about a year ago that I started reading Bones fanfiction. I had just discovered the show and devoured the entire series and I needed a way to spend my summer. It wasn't too much longer until I started writing my own. The nice thing about this series is that I can go back and write all of the little pieces that I might have written if I had watched the show from the first time that it aired. So here is a little stroll down memory lane. Because, let's face it, when else would Booth have ever not known who Temperance Brennan was?

Chapter Twelve: Tartle

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><p>Tartle: <em>Scottish<em> – The act of hesitating while introducing someone because you've forgotten their name.

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><p>Booth sat in a hospital bed as various medical personnel bustled about him. He sat there quietly, but he was filled with turmoil. In just a few minutes he was supposed to go under the knife. He'd had plenty of surgeries before, but never before on his brain. He was nervous. He'd seen too many friends and fellow soldiers suffer brain damage. Men with permanent short-term memory loss, men who would suffer from seizures for the rest of their lives. Men with vision or balance problems, attempting to regain a past life. Would he end up like one of them? Would solving the murder of a wine critic be his last case? Would he ever be the man that he was before he developed the tumor? What would happen to his partner and her latest request?<p>

As if his thoughts could be made physical, his partner was there beside him. The fear instantly went away when he saw her face. She could make everything better, just by being by his side. She did her best to reassure him, but he didn't care who the surgeon was, or how highly he was rated. As long as she kept holding his hand, he would be fine. He asked her to accompany him through the operation. She was hesitant at first, but the firm pressure of his hand on hers made her agree. She slipped out of the room to speak to his doctor and she was soon led away to change into scrubs.

Just a few moments later, Booth was being wheeled to the OR. He made the orderlies stop and told his partner that if something happened to him, she should have his baby. He wanted her to be happy. If she was going to lose him, at least she could have this small piece of him. Minutes later, he was being injected with drugs and counting backwards from 99. He was at 92 when he felt his partner's hand once again squeeze his own and drifted off into oblivion.

Brennan flinched when she first heard the buzz of the drill. She could picture what an X-ray of his skull would like like six hours from now, six weeks from now, and six years from now. She felt nauseated, but she closed her eyes, took a calming breath and continued to hold his hand as the surgeons and staff performed their duties.

* * *

><p>When he didn't wake up after being weaned off of his medications, she began to worry. The doctors didn't seem overly concerned. "This sometimes happens," they said. "We just have to hope for the best." She wasn't very good with hope. One friendly nurse suggested that she talk to him, that maybe he could hear her. Brennan had responded that she wouldn't know what to say. The nurse shrugged, tucked the blanket more firmly around her patient, and just told Brennan to tell the man a story.<p>

Too bright lights, a cotton-dry mouth and a fuzzy mind greeted Booth when he finally returned to consciousness. Nothing made sense and he squinted against the harsh light and spoke. Instantly, she was at his side. The woman that was his wife. She spoke to him, but she didn't sound right. She didn't look right either, her expression was too filled with concern. There was also the fact that Booth saw two of her.

She continued to talk to him, but he couldn't decipher the words. She didn't sound like his wife, she sounded almost like a pieces from a past life, where she was only a friend and a partner. He was confused, and when he had to ask her who she was, he saw her blue eyes cloud with moisture. She gripped his hand and squeezed it once before rushing out and paging his physician.

Booth was poked and prodded by several people before she returned. She smiled an apology and said that she had been on the phone. He lifted up his hand and in a few strides she was at his side and clinging tightly. They stayed linked together but silent, neither was sure what else to say. His head still pounded, his mind was still fuzzy, and his vision blurry. The only thing that he could focus on was the warmth in his hand and the blue eyes of the woman at his side.

A short, balding man in a white lab coat knocked on the door, a face buried in a file as he flipped through pages. "Mr. Booth. Glad to see you amongst the living again."

Booth looked out at the gray sky, the fading flowers on the bedside table and the still cloudy eyes of his partner. He barely nodded his head. "Yeah, it's good to be back."

"I'm Dr. Jonas Walker, I was the anesthesiologist with you during surgery. I just wanted to talk to you about your adverse reaction to the anesthesia, answer any questions that you might have before I sign off on your case." The doctor looked up from his chart. "Oh, I see your lovely friend is still here." The man smiled at Brennan.

"Yes, this is my..." Booth paused. He was about to say my Bren, but it didn't sound right in his head. What should he introduce her as? My _partner_? My _wife_? My _Bones_? He couldn't remember what he was supposed to call her. They all sounded right in his head and they all sounded wrong.

Booth's brow furrowed further in confusion, and Brennan stared at his face willing him to remember who she was and to say her name. It was Dr. Walker who spoke first. "Yes, Dr. Temperance Brennan, of course. I didn't recognize you without the mask. You were in the OR with us. Against protocol of course, but you were very well behaved." He chuckled at his own joke, but turned serious when it fell flat. Dr. Walker answered questions, signed a few forms, and was out of the room before Booth could decide on what name to call the woman at his side.

Brennan continued to stay with Booth as various doctors and nurses visited. She continued to hold his hand when she could, always careful to introduce herself quickly to any new personnel. Otherwise, she stayed silent, barely even asking medically relevant questions. Eventually, her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten in days. Seeing that Booth was sleeping, she let go of his hand and made her way to the cafeteria.

He was awake when she returned and a smile instantly lit his face. "Hey, Baby. I'm glad that you're back. I missed you." Brennan froze in the doorway, and Booth seemed to realize his mistake. He wasn't allowed to call her Baby, something about the name was wrong. He swallowed and said nothing. She remained frozen for another moment before walking to the bed.

"Hi, Booth. I brought you pudding. Your doctor said it would be fine for you to eat it."

"Thanks. I love that stuff."

Her voice was quiet as she responded with an, "I know."

Brennan excused herself to use the restroom when a physical therapist entered the room, ready to get Booth moving and test any residual effects from his surgery. The two men focused on work for several minutes before taking a short break and chatting.

"Your wife is lovely."

Booth nodded, "She's the best. We're going to have a baby."

"Congratulations, man! We'll have you running out for pickles and ice cream in no time." Neither man heard Brennan's heels clicking hurriedly away from Booth's room as they went back to work. It wasn't until the physical therapist finished his duties, that Booth realized that she had not returned and that she was not actually his wife, and they were not having a child. He closed his eyes and fell into a restless sleep.

The next time that Booth awoke it was Cam who was in the room with him, looking worried. Booth had a moment of confusion, but he could sort out who she was. She had been his friend for much longer than she had been a detective in his dream.

"Hey, Cam! Where's... where's?" He stumbled on the name again.

She let out a sad smile, "Dr. Brennan is packing. She got called to Guatemala. It sounded like an emergency. She sounded fairly upset when I spoke to her on the phone. She said that the doctors said that you'd be fine in a few days and then she sent me to keep you company. Angela will be by later. We are under strict orders to not leave you alone until you are released. I bribed Hodgins to take Sweets' shift. I didn't think you were ready to face him yet."

Booth nodded numbly and looked down at his hand. It felt cold without _her_ here to hold it. It didn't matter who she was, he was lost without her.

* * *

><p>"Booth, are you alright? You're sweating." Brennan sat up in bed and gently stroked his hair.<p>

Booth pushed her hand away from his face and then pulled her body close to his. "No, I'm OK. It was just a dream."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Booth breathed in the scent of her hair, calming himself further before speaking. "I was remembering my tumor surgery, how I couldn't remember who you were. How I couldn't remember what we were. I hate going back there."

She placed a hand over the arm that was wrapped around her in the dark. "I dream of that sometimes too. It is unpleasant."

"It's easier now, though."

"It is?"

"Well, now I know for sure who you are."

"And who am I?"

Booth's arm drifted down over Brennan's firm belly and he could have sworn that the baby responded to the touch. He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck as she sighed and burrowed deeper into his arms. His hand found hers and he laced their fingers together tightly. "You're mine."


	13. Duende

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Author's Note: This one is nothing but sugar. I couldn't help myself. Enjoy.

Chapter Thirteen: Duende

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><p>Duende: <em>Spanish<em> – While originally used to describe a mythical, spritelike entity that possesses humans and creates the feeling of awe of one's surroundings in nature, its meaning has transitioned into referring to "the mysterious power that a work of art has to deeply move a person."

* * *

><p>Angela grabbed Booth by the arm and dragged him down the corridor. When she finally let him go, he rubbed the juncture of his arm and shoulder, "Jeez, Ange, you practically ripped my arm out of its socket."<p>

She shrugged, "At least it wasn't your shooting arm."

"Well, thanks for that." Booth took in the scenery around him. "Any reason, I'm here? This isn't usually my kind of place."

Angela sighed. "You are such a Neanderthal, Booth."

"So what did I just have to see?"

Angela pointed to a small work of art. It didn't look much larger than a sheet of ordinary computer paper, but his breath was taken away as he looked at the picture.

"Wow, Ange. It's beautiful."

"I know. Don't you think that it's totally Brennan? The moment I saw it, and I knew that it would be perfect."

Booth nodded, "She'll love the colors, look at that blue. You're right, it is perfect."

Angela smugly responded. "I know."

Booth looked around at the other masterpieces that were on display. They were also nice, whoever had arranged the room clearly had a good eye; but there was something about the piece in front of him that he couldn't resist. Booth reached out his hand, but stopped himself. He didn't want to get in trouble for touching the artist's work. He knew how temperamental artists could be about their pieces.

He looked playfully at Angela, "I don't know, Ange. You think I can afford it?"

She smirked and rolled her eyes at him. "It's a very reasonable price, and the artist is virtually undiscovered. I'm sure that I can get you a good deal. And it needs a proper frame. I can take care of that for you as well, if you want me to."

"Yeah, that would be nice. I'm no good at that kind of stuff. You think you can have it ready for her birthday?"

Angela nodded, "I'll see what I can do, it'll be a rush job, but I'll get it done in time."

"Good, now that that's settled, let's get back before Bones comes looking for us."

"Yeah, the kids must be bored by now anyway. They were promised pizza two hours ago, and we have yet to deliver."

Booth offered his arm, which Angela blithely accepted and they went in search of their partners and their children.

* * *

><p>Booth looked around the room covertly. He rarely stepped inside Brennan's office at home, this was her space. When she needed privacy, this was her sanctuary. Usually, she only ended up there when she had a chapter to finish, or paperwork that she didn't want young eyes to discover. He had spent days deliberating where he was going to hang his freshly acquired masterpiece. He had considered their bedroom, the family room, even the kitchen, but he had settled on her office.<p>

When she closed the door, no one disturbed her and she could spend uninterrupted hours holed up there. When it got too late, he would rap lightly on the door and go to bed. Sometimes she would join him shortly afterwards, but sometimes it would still be hours until the bed would shift beside him. She would lose herself in the office, and he thought that by having the picture there in front of her, she would remember that everyone else was outside waiting for her. And he thought that the art would inspire her on those rare occasions when writer's block kept her in the sparse room until all hours of the night.

He had found the perfect spot, on the wall just above her desk. He clenched the nail in his hand and brought it to the pencil dot that he had already measured. He had to make sure that it was set right, she would notice if it wasn't perfectly centered. He wouldn't mind rehanging it, but she would certainly mind if he poked too many extra holes in the wall.

He laughed to himself, he was obsessing over a nail and a hole that he was perfectly capable of repairing if he needed to. He brought the nail to the wall and began to gently tap the head. Once it was secure, he carefully unwrapped the package. He sighed when he saw the piece again. It really was perfect. She would love it. He brushed it lightly, the art now covered by a protective glass that Angela swore would preserve it from sun damage. Of course he left a streak on the surface and he quickly went in search of glass cleaner.

Finally, everything was ready. The painting was hung. The setting sun creeping through the windows really set it off. He glanced at his watch. She was supposed to be home by now. She had promised to leave work early so that they could properly celebrate her birthday. She was late for their plans, but it was still early by her standards.

Finally, he heard the door unlock and he heard two chattering voices as they entered the home and settled in for the evening.

He heard her call for him, "Booth?"

"I'm up here, Bones. In your office."

He heard footsteps on the stairs, one set tentative, the other one lighter and hurrying to catch up.

"What are you doing in my office, Booth? You never come in here."

"Surprise! Happy Birthday!" He gestured at the newly hung work of art.

She stared at it for a long moment, taking it in, analyzing it. Finally, she smiled. "It's wonderful, Booth. Where did you get it?"

"Angela spotted it, she insisted that I get it for you. I wasn't hard to convince. It's perfect for you, isn't it? Do you like it?"

She leaned over and quickly kissed his cheek. "Of course I like it. I love it."

"Love it? That's high praise from you."

Brennan reached up and brushed the painting, leaving her own fingerprint where Booth had removed one earlier. She frowned at the streak, but Booth was quick to supply her with cleaner and a towel. She smiled at his thoughtfulness and he grinned in response.

A small girl poked her head into the office.

"Do you like it, Mommy? Aunt Angie said it was a surprise for you."

"I love it, Baby. Thank you." The background of the picture was a swirl of blues and greys, but it was the center of the piece that was its focus. A very detailed crayon drawing of a family popped out of the picture: a blond boy nearly as tall as the man standing beside him, next to two girls with blue eyes and dark hair, clearly mother and daughter.

"I worked really hard on it. Aunt Angie let me use her studio. It took forever and ever."

"I can only imagine, you put in a lot of detail. I'm very impressed. Maybe Angela will get her wish and you will be an artist when you grow up."

The girl reached up her arms and was quickly settled on her mother's hip. She scrunched her eyebrows, "Maybe, I might still be a ballerina or a scientist, or the president, or a dinosaur hunter, or a hockey player or..."

Booth reached over to ruffle his daughter's hair, "Or a special agent at the Federal Bureau of Investigations."

"I don't know Daddy, would I get a gun?"

Booth shook his head, what was it about Brennan women and firearms? "OK, whose hungry? I've got dinner in the oven."

Now it was Brennan's turn to raise an eyebrow, "You cooked?"

He shrugged. "Sid did, I just reheated. I can't just give you grilled cheese on your birthday. Come on, I'm starvin' like Marvin."

The girl reached over to her father and the transfer was made efficiently from one partner to the other. Booth quickly left the office as Brennan took another minute to admire her daughter's work. "Daddy, whose Marvin? Did Sid send enough food for him?"

Brennan shook her head and left the office. She had a birthday dinner to eat with her family. In an hour Rebecca would stop by with Parker to share cake and for him to give her the unnecessary, but completely thoughtful present that he had picked out for her. She left the door to the office open, she would definitely show off the picture to the rest of her family.

Her cell phone vibrated and smiled at the birthday text from Angela. Brennan enthusiastically typed a response, congratulating Angela on her eye and thanking her for the perfect framing job. She heard her daughter calling for her and she quickened her step in order to join her family.

Temperance Brennan had priceless artifacts and countless works of art in her home. The few lucky people who gained entrance into her home were always impressed with the decor, but only those closest to her knew that the one piece that she cherished most of all was a crayon drawing by a five year old girl. A piece that hung in her office, perfectly drawn, framed and centered on the wall where the setting sun framed her family.


	14. Toska

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Author's Note: So, I've tried to alternate the more light-hearted stories with the ones that had a little more heft to them. It's time for one that is a little heavier. This one brings us back to DitP, and is nothing but angst. Look at this word; toska and angst go hand in hand, sorry, I had to go there.

Chapter Fourteen: Toska

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><p>Toska: <em>Russian<em> – Vladimir Nabokov describes it best: "No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases it may be the desire for somebody of something specific, nostalgia, love-sickness. At the lowest level it grades into ennui, boredom."

* * *

><p>Brennan stared at the envelope in her hands. She willed the hands that held said envelope to stop shaking. She needed more time. She had another four hours and thirteen minutes before her brain would have had time to adjust. She shook her head. Logically, she knew that it wouldn't take exactly 72 hours to have adjusted to the fact that she had missed her chance with Booth. But the set time frame had given her a sense of control over her feelings, an ability to master her emotions temporarily.<p>

She had been doing well. She was still sad, and still spending too many hours in the lab, working in limbo and avoiding talking to her colleagues. She knew that she would recover eventually. Brennan decided to sort through her mail before leaving the office, wanting to start fresh in the morning. She flipped through flyers for lectures being offered at the Jeffersonian, memos from colleagues, a save-the-date card for an upcoming fundraiser, and an invitation to join a dig.

It was the offer that had her practically vibrating over her desk. She received such invitations often, e-mailed or phoned in, occasionally hand-written. She used to accept so many more such invites, before she had become Booth's partner. She had continued to travel and consult after meeting Booth, but she had spent far more time anchored to DC than she had in the past.

Looking over the paper again, Brennan sighed. This wasn't even the first invitation since returning from the Maluku project. This paper, however, was the first invitation that she had received after telling Booth that she had made a mistake, that she had missed her chance.

She read over the invite for a third time. It was a good opportunity, a limited consultation engagement in a relatively safe location. There would be sunshine and ancient remains, and a chance to finish her adjustment period. She would be back months before Angela's baby would arrive, she could give Booth a chance to settle into his relationship with Hannah without obligations to his emotionally fragile partner. She could return strong and whole and happy to be alone.

She told Angela that she had always expected to be alone, and that she was living the life that she expected. She didn't want to be alone anymore, but there was only one person that she wanted to not be alone with. And he had made his choice. She would adjust, she _would_. She was strong, it was time to move on. Brennan dropped the letter on the desk and began to gather her things. She would think about the offer over the weekend and make her decision on Monday.

Brennan grabbed her jacket and hastily put it on. Maybe she would join Angela and Hodgins, they had likely already eaten dinner, but she would be welcome to join them for dessert or some non-alcoholic drinks. A distraction would be good, and she knew that by asking about the baby, she could successfully avoid talking about herself. She really wasn't alone, she was not Lauren Eames. And she was going to prove it.

She was nearly out the door when a whistling Booth entered the office. It was painfully obvious even to Brennan that he was trying too hard to act normal. They had talked on the phone briefly the day before, but they seemed to allowing each other the privacy and space that was needed in order to adjust. He forced a smile on his face and tapped a file against one hand.

"Hey, Bones. I have the paperwork on the Eames case. Just need your John Hancock on a few papers, and we can wrap this up."

Brennan nodded. "Yes, would you mind setting them on the desk? I will sign them later and bring them back to you."

Booth let out another low whistle. "Dr. Brennan, leaving paperwork unsigned on a Friday night so that she can leave the Jeffersonian at a reasonable hour? Did I step into an alternate universe? Am I Bizarro Booth?"

Brennan glanced at her watch and then rubbed her temple. "I don't know what that means, but it's 8:30. It was a long week, and I'm tired. Please, just set the file on my desk. I will take care of it first thing Monday morning."

Booth dipped his head. "Sure, Bones. No problem." He slid past his partner and set the file on the desk, the slightly wrinkled sheet of paper catching his eye. He attempted to read it upside-down, while talking to his partner. "So... you doing OK?" They both knew that he was referring to their night in the SUV, and she didn't quite know what to say.

"I'm adjusting."

Booth was still distracted by the letter as he attempted to finish the paragraph that he had started. "Good, that's good, Bones."

Brennan turned slightly toward the door. Now she just wanted to go home and attempt to sleep. She really was exhausted. "Yes, I'll be fine. Good night, Booth. Please close the door on the way out."

His voice called out to her. "When do you leave?"

Brennan halted her steps. "Excuse me?"

Booth held up the paper. "They asked you to consult?"

"Oh, I hadn't made a decision yet. It may be easier if I go, you know with everything that has happened this past week. And, I would only be gone a few weeks, a month at most. I have no desire to be absent from the lab for a longer amount of time."

"Right, can't miss out on baby Hodgela."

Brennan wrinkled her nose, "Hodgela?"

"Nevermind, Bones. You're right, it's late, and you're exhausted. Go home, get some sleep. Have a good night." Booth set the paper down on the desk on top of the file folder that he had already dropped.

"Yes, good night, Booth." She glanced at her partner. He was leaning on her desk, both hands supporting his weight. She wanted to say something to him. He was clearly in need of comfort, but she didn't know what would be appropriate. They were both hurting and confused. She bit her lip and once again started walking towards the office door.

Booth's shaky voice stopped Brennan in her tracks. "Don't go."

"Excuse me?"

"I don't want you to leave again. Please, don't go, Temperance."

Brennan sighed and remained frozen. She couldn't face him, the look in his eyes that she knew would be there. She took one more step toward the door before she felt him tug on her arm. She whirled around and was face to chest with her partner.

They stood in silence, unable to meet the others gaze. Finally, Brennan felt the gentle pressure of his finger under her chin, tilting her head up. Their eyes finally met and Booth couldn't help himself as he tilted his own head down. A breath away from their lips connecting, Brennan found her voice. Her hand came up to his chest and pushed him away from her. He staggered back a step and looked at her with confusion.

"Don't Booth. We can't. I don't want you to compromise your beliefs. This isn't who you are."

Booth nodded, he wasn't free to kiss her, they would both regret it if they did. But for a fleeting moment, it was the only thing he wanted. "How did we get here, Bones? What happened to us?"

She had no answer for him, but Booth didn't have an answer either. He took another step back from the anthropologist, trying to regain his composure. With Booth's retreat, Brennan adjusted the belt on her jacket and finally decided to exit her office. She paused at the doorway, leaning one hand against the jamb.

Her voice was so quiet, that if it weren't for the utter silence of the lab, he wouldn't have heard her. "I'll stay, Booth. I'll stay."

Brennan released her hand and walked out the door, while Booth exhaled heavily. He sank into her couch and sat immobile, outlasting the sensors that automatically turned off her lights when there was no movement in the room. He continued to sit in the dark, attempting to make out the outline of his hands in the dim room. The silence was finally broken by the vibration of his phone. The smiling face of Hannah lit up his screen and he blinked against the brightness.

Booth stood and answered his phone, the lights of the office turning on at the motion. He pressed a button and tried to inject his usual tone into the phone call. "Yeah, I'm on my way home. I'll see you soon."

Booth passed by Brennan's desk on the way out the door and debated crumpling the invitation and throwing it in the garbage. He restrained himself and exited the office, closing the door behind him.

He apparently still had some adjusting of his own to do.


	15. Torschlusspanik

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, but I am obsessed!

Author's Note: So, I was on Google Docs the other day and realized that I hadn't updated this story in 26 days. Oops. It then took me another five days to come up with a chapter. I started writing a different word, but then this story popped out instead. Enjoy.

Chapter Sixteen: Torschlusspanik

* * *

><p>Torschlusspanik: <em>German<em> – Translated literally, this word means "gate-closing panic," but its contextual meaning refers to "the fear of diminishing opportunities as one ages."

* * *

><p>"You are grumpy."<p>

Booth looked up from his drink to glare at his partner. "Thanks, Doc. Where are Dopey and Happy?"

Brennan's eyebrow raised, "Who?"

Booth shook his head and took a sip of his drink. "Sweets and Angela, where'd they go?"

"Sweets is over at the bar, introducing himself to the woman in the red dress. And I believe Angela is checking in with Hodgins. He was supposed to be here over an hour ago. He is trying to use the excuse that Michael was throwing a tantrum, but Angela doesn't believe him."

Booth took another sip of his drink. "Yeah, well, we all know how he feels about big wig parties and rubbing elbows with these kinds of people at these kind of shindigs. Believe me, if I didn't have to be here, I wouldn't be." He gulped his scotch, grimacing as the alcohol poured down his throat.

"Why are you in such a sour mood?" Brennan asked, genuinely concerned.

Only tonight, Booth didn't want her concern. He didn't want to explain things to her. Booth's voice was harsh in its reply. "I'm not allowed to be in a bad mood?" Brennan looked as if he had slapped her, and he instantly regretted his tone. "I'm sorry, I'm just not in the mood to be here."

Brennan frowned. "Aren't you supposed to be having fun? Isn't this a party?"

Booth groaned. Apparently, he wasn't going to get out of explaining things to Brennan tonight. "Yes, but it's a retirement party."

"I don't understand, Agent Reilly is your friend. None of us would be here if it wasn't for your relationship with him."

Booth lowered his head and shook it. "Yeah, but Sam. It's just... I can't believe that he's retiring, that he's walking away."

Brennan finally sat herself on the stool next to Booth, pulling the half empty drink out of his hands and setting it at her side. It was still within his reach, but he didn't want to test her. She placed her own glass of water in his hand, urging him to drink it. "Well, he is quite advanced in years. He is an accomplished agent, he can be proud of the cases that he has solved, and enjoy some peace and quiet. In fact, he told me earlier that he plans on taking up fishing."

Booth snorted into his water glass. "Fishing, that's what he's going to be reduced to? Fishing?"

"It is a very popular past-time Booth, I don't know why you would feel so indignant over his life choices. It was his decision."

"I'm indignant because he trained me, he's one of the best agents that I've ever known, and he's just walking away. How can he just give up?"

"Give up? Booth, he isn't giving up. He's been here for decades, he's been as dedicated and driven as any other agent here. He's obsessed over cases, just like us. He's almost gone too far, just like we have on occasion. It's his time."

Booth fingered the rim of the now empty glass before pushing it out of his way. "Is that what you think of us?"

"I don't understand."

"That one day, we are just going to say, 'OK, we did it, that's enough. Let's go home?' Is it going to be that easy to walk away?"

Brennan signaled a waiter, grabbing two new glasses of water off of his tray before addressing her partner. In all of their years of partnership, she had grown better at understanding his emotions. She sipped from her own cool glass and faced the agent. "No, of course it isn't. Is this why you are so upset? You are thinking about your own retirement? Booth that is years, maybe even decades away."

Booth ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't know. Maybe. We've been doing this for so long, what are we going to do when it's over?"

Brennan sighed his name, "Booth."

"Yeah, I mean, how long are we realistically going to be able to remain partners, to do what we do? Hell, I'm in my forties and my bones creak like I've already got one foot in the grave. And I saw the look on your face when you got that invite to dig the other day. You were interested. I saw the glint in your eye."

"I haven't made any decisions yet."

"Right, yet. You are still thinking about it. You want to go."

"Well, I'll say no, if it means that much to you."

Booth finally reached over and grabbed his scotch back, downing the remains, before turning apologetically back to his partner. "That's not the point."

"Then what is your point?"

"I'm not getting any younger. I won't always be Special Agent Seeley Booth. I'm not always going to be out in the field, solving murders. All of this," Booth gestured around the room, where agents were grouped together, and his own team was huddled, "Is just going to go away."

Brennan placed her hand on his forearm, and again called his name softly. He barely heard her as he kept going on his tirade. "And us, you and me. God, _we_ have an expiration date. Someday, maybe soon, I'm going to be shuttled over to some desk job, and then you'll go crawling back to your basement, and we'll be two ships passing in the night."

Brennen squeezed his arm, quirking an eyebrow. "You are mixing your metaphors."

Booth's eyes shifted over to his partner. "I'm pouring out my heart here, and you are focusing on my grammar."

Brennan would have laughed if it wasn't for the seriousness of his expression. "I'm sorry. But, Booth, you are being melodramatic. Yes, someday we will retire. I know that we can't be out in the field forever. But, we've talked about this before. Someday, we will have to make the decision to walk away, that we've done enough. And we have to trust that those that we've trained can take up the mantle and continue to bring justice to the world."

She paused to take a breath, "But even when we are one day no longer work partners, it won't be the end of us. We are more than coffee, aren't we?" Brennan gave him a soft smile, nudging his shoulder with her own, hoping that he too would remember how they once defined their relationship.

Of course he remembered their first sessions with Sweets. "Yeah, we are more than coffee. Even if there were no more murders..."

She continued where he left off. "We're more than coffee. We're..."

"Partners. Always." Booth reached out his hand and pulled Brennan close, releasing the tension of the evening, silently apologizing for his sullen behavior.

Brennan leaned her head on his shoulder, accepting his unspoken apology. "Yes, always."

Booth kissed his partner's forehead and reached down to toy with the ring on his partner's hand. "I'm sorry that I was so grumpy tonight."

She leaned more heavily onto his side, inhaling his calming scent. "Are you feeling better now?"

He nodded, "Yeah. I'm more than just my job right?"

"Of course you are a superb FBI agent, but that doesn't solely define who you are. You are also a great father, a good brother, an excellent friend, and a fine husband."

"Just fine?" At his teasing tone, Brennan sat up and pushed him. He nearly fell off of his stool at her force. "Kidding, Bones. I'm just kidding. Come on, Sweetheart, let's go say hello to our friends. I see Hodgins has finally arrived."

Brennan stood, still admonishing him, even as she wrapped an arm around his waist. "Just because I am feeling sorry for you doesn't mean that you can use unapproved nicknames."

Booth placed his own hand at her back and grinned. "Right, Babe. Oh, looks like Sweets is getting that girl's phone number. Our baby duck is growing up."

"You are being ridiculous."

Booth's steps halted. "You know what, I've changed my mind."

Brennan stopped along side him, "You have?"

"Instead, I want to kiss my beautiful wife in front of all of our friends, and then I want to take her home and kiss our little girl good-night. And then I want to take my partner to bed and ravish her."

Booth could have sworn that Brennan flushed at the proposition. "Are you sure that you are up for that? That your bones aren't going to creak in your old age?"

Booth leaned over and kissed his wife on her nose, "I'm going to just forget you said that. I am a man in my prime. Now go say good night to our friends, while I say bye to Sam and meet me at the exit in three minutes. We've got a lot of work to do before we retire." He kissed her deeply, while Angela cat-called and Sweets turned scarlet. After a few moments, Booth released her lips and then disengaged to go and find his friend.

He was stopped by Brennan calling his name, "Booth?"

He turned back to face his partner. "Yeah?"

"Make it two minutes."


	16. Litost

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones, but I am obsessed.

Author's Note: Well, we are reaching the end of this little adventure, just a few chapters to go. I'll leave what really happened at the end of this chapter to the imagination. Enjoy.

Chapter Sixteen: Litost

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><p>Litost: <em>Czech<em>: Milan Kundera, author of The Unbearable Lightness of Being, remarked that "As for the meaning of this word, I have looked in vain in other languages for an equivalent, though I find it difficult to imagine how anyone can understand the human soul without it." The closest definition is a state of agony and torment created by the sudden sight of one's own misery.

* * *

><p>"You don't understand. She was going to leave me! She was going to leave me, and take Becky away forever. I couldn't let that happen! They were my family. I loved them."<p>

Booth looked at the broken man in disgust. "You loved them so much, that you killed them both and buried them in a park. You didn't love them."

The man cried out again, "I did love them! More than anything. I'm in that park everyday, telling them how much I love them. You have no idea how much I loved them, how much I needed them."

Booth's fists clenched in anger, and he took a few deep breaths in order to calm himself. Earlier in the interrogation he had stood, towering over the defiant suspect, but now Booth sat back in his chair. His partner's hand reached out and discreetly squeezed his thigh before standing and exiting the room. The open door allowed two other agents to enter the room and begin processing the guilty man. The man's eyes followed Booth as he took his own exit. Catching the glint of the observation mirror, and staring at his own reflection, the man burst into tears. Booth didn't even spare a look back.

Booth's exit was slowed when he was cornered by Sweets in the hall, and Booth tried to side-step the psychologist without engaging. He wasn't in the mood.

"Agent Booth." There was a seriousness to Sweets' tone, and it made Booth pause and look the younger man in the eye.

"What, Sweets? I'm kind of busy here."

"I just wanted to make sure that you and Dr. Brennan were all right. This case has been difficult for both of you."

"We're just fine."

"Then where is Dr. Brennan?"

Booth ran his tongue over his teeth and glared at the man. "Well, I would maybe know if you weren't blocking my exit. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go find my partner and then we are going to grab dinner and a drink, like we always do. Night, Sweets."

The psychologist called after the agent, his voice trailing off as Booth marched to the elevator. "Maybe you and Dr. Brennan should schedule an appointment for therapy. You clearly have some issues to deal with after a case like this one." But Booth was already abandoning the slow moving elevators for the staircase, hoping to make an even quicker escape.

Two floors down, Booth paused on the landing in order to dial Brennan's number. She picked up on the first ring. "I'm sorry that I just left, I didn't want to have to talk to Sweets, not today."

"Good call. He cornered me after Wakefield's confession. I am so glad that this case is over. This week has been terrible. Are you hungry?"

Booth heard a door slam in the background. "I'm sorry, I'm already on my way back to the Jeffersonian. I promised Angela that I would go out with her tonight. She and Hodgins had a disagreement earlier, and she has decided to be rebellious. She made me promise that I would celebrate with her tonight."

Booth groaned, no good could come of Angela and Brennan going out together. And he couldn't hide his own disappointment that they wouldn't have a chance to comfort each other after the stress of this case. Maybe he'd swing by her place later with some dessert and aspirin. "Well, have fun and stay safe. Call me if you need anything."

Her voice was wistful as she called his name. "Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"Would you like to join us?"

Booth hesitated. "Wouldn't I be intruding on girl time?"

"I don't really care. I promised Angela that I would join her, I didn't say that I would come alone."

Booth smiled as he finished making his way down the stairs and into the open air. "Well, Bones. I like your logic. Just let me know where to meet you and when."

* * *

><p>Four hours later, Booth's head was pounding and he was regretting the decision to accompany the women on their night out. The music was throbbing in his ears, he was starving, and Brennan was on the floor, dancing with random men. Dancing on a crowded hot floor. She had removed her blouse before entering the club and was currently moving to the beat in a thin tank top. He glanced a look back at her through the crowd. Dear God, she was sweating, and her pony-tail was bouncing, and there was a man with a hand on her back and it was trailing down, south of the Equator. A gaggle of drunk girls blocked his view at that point, and he turned away in disgust.<p>

"You know, Studly. You could just ask her to dance." Booth whipped his head around to face Angela.

"Don't want to interrupt you guys or your fun."

"You're pathetic, you know that?"

"Excuse me?"

"You look miserable, sitting here all alone. You know how many girls have been eyeing you?"

Booth huffed, "I have a general idea."

"And how many girls have actually offered to buy you a drink and you've sent them away?"

"Enough."

Angela leaned even closer to Booth's ear so that she could whisper more effectively. "She's noticed the women staring at you. I don't think that she's a fan."

"She doesn't seem all that heartbroken." He gestured back to his partner, who was now sandwiched between two young men. Men that even Booth had to admit were handsome. Damn them.

"Seriously, your face is going to freeze like that Booth if you aren't careful." Booth caught his own reflection on the mirrored back wall of the bar. The scowl did indeed look like it was going to permanently etch itself onto his face.

"Whatever. Are you ladies about done here? I'm ready to go."

Angela smirked, "Well, Hodgins is coming to pick me up. He's been grovelling for three hours, and I've decided to put himself out of his misery. Maybe you could offer your partner a ride home. What have you got to lose?"

Booth huffed again. "Good night, Angela."

Angela's tone was light in response. "Good night, Booth. Have some fun. It won't kill you. And neither will a smile."

Booth gave her a wide, fake smile. "Give Hodgins my love, will you?" Angela swatted him gently and sauntered out of the club.

Booth glanced once more at his reflection, determination replacing the annoyance on his face. When had he given up going for the things he wanted? Since when had he just given up on ever being more to Brennan than a partner. Why had he drawn that damn line in the first place?

Booth swaggered through the throng, knowing his destination. He was stopped by a few women, but he impolitely ignored them, focused on finding his partner. She was dancing with yet another man, and Booth's frustration was momentarily side-lined by the fact that the men who had made a Brennan-sandwich were now making out with each other. Well, at least they were no longer a threat. With renewed purpose, Booth approached his partner, staring down the man that she was currently dancing with. Seeing Booth's intensity, the man put his arms up in surrender and found another willing woman.

Booth quickly stepped in and claimed his dance. The beat continued to pulse, but to Booth, time seemed to slow down as he placed an arm around her waist and held her close.

"So, you having fun tonight, Bones?"

"Yes, I enjoy the music."

"Beats Tibetan Throat Singers. That's for sure." A drunken behemoth bumped into Booth, and he was pushed even closer to his partner. Perhaps a little too close. But she didn't seem to mind.

"Are you having fun, Booth? This isn't a place that you would normally frequent."

"Not unless there's a mummified body and a cloud of meth in the air."

Brennan smiled, remembering one of their early cases. "I noticed that many of the women here find you attractive."

"You've had your own choice of men here tonight."

"You sent them away."

"So did you, after awhile."

Brennan smirked, "Well Angela said that I should dance with men. She said it would make you jealous. Ridiculous notion."

Booth felt himself press even closer to his partner. "Ridiculous, yeah." The song switched to an even more up-tempo song, but the partners were standing nearly motionless in the center of the floor. Booth placed his lips close to her ear. "Were you trying to make me jealous?"

Brennan pulled back slightly. "I... I don't know." Now they were both completely still, dancers jostling around them, but neither cared.

Booth found her ear again. "Because, you know, Angela was right. I was extremely jealous. More than that, I was miserable seeing you with those other men."

Brennan turned her head so that she could speak directly into Booth's ear. "I didn't like seeing you with those other women, either."

"I didn't even talk to them!" Booth protested.

"But I'm very observant, I noticed them staring at you, and I didn't like it."

"You know, if we leave now, I won't have to be jealous of you and other men dancing, and you won't have to look at other women checking me out."

"That is logical."

Booth once again pressed close to her, "You do love logic." Brennan nodded as Booth began to lead them toward the edge of the dance floor. "Let's get out of here and grab a slice. I'm starving."

Brennan grinned, "I have a better idea."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Studly. Looking good today."<p>

"Thanks, Angela. How was your night?"

Angela shrugged and gave an innocent smile. "Fantastic. And I don't think that I need to ask you how your night was. I can tell by the stupid grin on your face. You know, Brennan seems to have a very similar expression on her face this morning, but she seems to have no explanation for it. Anything that you want to share with the class?"

"Nope."

"Come on, Booth. What happened last night? Tell me, tell me."

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

Angela narrowed her eyes. "You know, sometimes I really hate you, Booth."

Booth gave her his best smile before walking away. "Careful, Angela, or your face will freeze like that."


	17. WabiSabi

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones, but I am obsessed.

Author's Note: Another chapter. This one is short and sweet and all about our favorite couple. Enjoy.

Chapter Seventeen: Wabi-Sabi

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><p>Wabi-Sabi: <em>Japanese<em>: Much has been written on this concept, but in a sentence, one might be able to understand it as "a way of living that focuses on finding beauty within the imperfections of life and accepting peacefully the natural cycle of growth and decay."

* * *

><p>Booth stood beside his partner as the the casket was lowered. A grieving family huddled together a short distance away, placing flowers and attempting to stem the flow of their tears. It was always difficult seeing someone bury a child, it was something that he would never get used to. As usual, the team had found the truth, heartbreaking as it was. And once again, the team was assembled at a funeral, flanking the partners in their own show of support. They stood silently, giving the family and themselves the closure that they needed after a case.<p>

Brennan's arm snaked out, reaching for her partner. She reached for his hand, and he found himself glancing down at their entwined fingers, a smile gracing his face. Even after all of these months together as a couple, the brief contact still gave him a thrill. She squeezed his hand as she felt his body's reaction, even as she kept her eyes focused on the scene in front of her.

Slowly, the family turned away from the freshly dug grave, and approached the team. They gave a last round of gratitude and handshakes for the combined efforts of the Jeffersonian and the FBI. After condolences and sympathies had been delivered, the team drifted away, nodding their good-byes to the partners. Angela braved a hug and a sad smile for Brennan before leading her husband away, desperate now to give her own child a hug and kiss. As soon as they were alone, Brennan once again reached out for her partner's hand, seeking its warmth and comfort.

Booth could tell that Brennan was working up the courage to speak. He squeezed her hand back, silently encouraging her to talk. As much as she claimed that she didn't need time to process her emotions, it was these moments when he knew that she carried the weight of her thoughts as they struggled to become words. Finally, she took a deep breath and spoke. "It's just so sad, Booth. It was an accident. She didn't have to die. And she certainly shouldn't have had to wait six years for her family to know the truth."

Booth released his partner's hand in favor of wrapping his arm behind her back and around her waist. "I know, Bones, I know. But now her story has been told, the truth is out there, and we can sleep well tonight. You will sleep tonight, Bones, won't you?"

Brennan sighed and snuggled closer into Booth's side. "I'll try. It's just every time I looked at that girl's picture, I kept seeing all of the things that she would never become. I kept thinking about all of her family's suffering, not knowing what had happened to their little girl. And, I kept thinking about..."

"About our baby, and all of the terrible things that could happen to her."

Brennan nodded. "Exactly. I'm scared, Booth."

Booth kissed her temple. "I know. I am too."

"You are?" Brennan stepped away from him so that she could look him in the eye.

Booth stepped towards his partner and placed his hands on her face, his thumbs gently circling her cheeks. "Don't you remember how terrified I was when I thought Epps had Parker? And how many times have we been shot at, or kidnapped, or been exploded?"

Brennan scoffed. "I don't think that 'been exploded' is proper terminology."

"No, it isn't, but you get my point. And yes, we have more to fear than most parents, because we have been targets in the past, and we or our family could be targets in the future. But we can't let fear rule our life. We are having a baby, Temperance, we are bringing new life into the world, and that's a wonderful thing."

She paused to inhale his scent. It always soothed her. "I just can't help but worry."

Booth pressed a gentle kiss onto her forehead. "I know, but you can always tell me these things."

"I am telling you these things, now."

Booth's gaze shifted to take in the grounds. "That's right, while we're in a cemetery. Doesn't it seem kind of morbid, discussing life after a funeral?"

Brennan shrugged as she once again curled into his side and let him place his arms around her. "It's almost poetic, actually."

"Poetic? Those hormones must be doing a number on you. Are you going metaphorical on me?"

She let out a chuckle. "I don't know, it just seems kind of like... like..."

"Us?"

She nodded. "Yes, exactly. Life and family and death, all together."

Booth's voice lowered an octave as he whispered into her ear. "Yes, Simba, but let me explain. When we die, our bodies become the grass, and the antelope eat the grass. And so we are all connected in the great Circle of Life. "

Brennan raised an eyebrow, although Booth couldn't see it. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"The Circle of Life? From the Lion King? We really need to sit you in front of a DVD player before the baby comes."

"Oh, is it a film that Parker enjoyed?"

"God, no. It gave him nightmares for a week, but that's not the point."

"Then what is your point?"

Booth released his partner, plucking a small wildflower from the ground near his feet. He held out the blossom for her, and she accepted it with a small blush. He gave her his softest smile as he continued his explanation. "The point is, we deal with death, but we won't let ourselves get lost in it. There is a lot of life, all around us, we just have to learn to appreciate it, to embrace it."

Brennan fingered the flower in her hands. "I do appreciate life. I revere it. It's one of the reasons that I do what I do."

"And it's one of the many reasons that we work so well together. The whole team. But especially you and me. You look beyond a pile of bones and you see a life. You can tell us their favorite sports, how they lived, how they hurt. You can tell us how hard they fought to stay alive. Only you can do that, Temperance. You give them back their voices, their life."

Brennan cut him off mid-speech. "Booth?"

"Yes?"

She took a steadying breath. "I love you."

"What?"

"I love you. I know that I don't tell you that enough, but I just wanted you to know. Really know."

He sighed and pressed their lips together briefly before pulling her into another hug. "Oh, Bones, I know. I always knew. And, I love you too. So, so much." Brennan pulled away and gasped at the sharp jab in her abdomen. "You OK?"

Brennan's answering smile could light the whole neighborhood. She had felt the movement before, but it had never been so strong before. So present. "The baby. She's kicking." Brennan grabbed Booth's hand and placed it over the spot on her swollen belly. They were both rewarded by another sharp tap. Booth's grin then matched Brennan's.

"Wow."

Brennan's usual eloquence also disappeared. "Yeah, wow."

"See, she agrees with us."

"She does?"

"Life... and love, it's a beautiful thing."

Brennan could only nod and lean in for another kiss. "It is."


	18. L'appel du vide

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones, but I am obsessed.

Author's Note: OK, I think we've gone into full on cliche in this one. I have no idea where this one-shot came from. Honestly, I was driving to work and one line from this fic jumped into my mind, and from that line and the inspiration word, this one-shot was born. Enjoy.

Chapter Eighteen: L'appel du vide

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><p>L'appel du vide: <em>French<em>: "The call of the void" is this French expression's literal translation, but more significantly it's used to describe the instinctive urge to jump from high places.

* * *

><p>"Honey, I'm ho-oome." Booth called out to Brennan as he closed and locked the front door, tossing his keys into the the bowl on the nearby table.<p>

Brennan's head popped into the hallway. "How was your meeting?"

"Fine, the prosecutor says that we have a firm case. Seems like a good guy, for a rookie. Thanks for sending the files over."

Brennan nodded. "Well, I would have liked to have been there myself."

"It's OK. We were fine. You'll be at the next one." Booth removed his trench coat and slung it on the banister. Brennan frowned at the careless toss; the coat closet was across from the staircase, but Booth rarely used it. Sensing her frustration, Booth flashed a smile and leaned over for a kiss. She gave him a playful shove and then immediately grabbed his tie and pulled him in close, welcoming him home with a deep kiss.

Several moments passed before they separated. Finally, Brennan pulled away. "Dinner will be ready shortly."

"Great, I'm starving." Brennan smiled and released Booth's tie. She walked over to the kitchen, Booth following in her footsteps. He watched her as she fiddled with various items on the stove. He lost his playful tone as he watched her bustle around the kitchen. "So, Bones. I got some news today."

Brennan replaced a lid on a pot and set her slotted spoon on its rest. She turned to face her partner. "By your tone, I'd say you have something serious to tell me."

"Not serious. Just interesting." When Booth didn't elaborate, Brennan raised an eyebrow. Booth had seemed to forget that she was in the room. He was simply staring out the window, and Brennan repeatedly called his name before he snapped out of it. "Sorry, just spaced out a minute there. Anyway, Hannah's engaged."

"Hannah Burley?"

"Yes, Hannah Burley."

"Your ex-girlfriend, reporter, Hannah Burley?"

Booth huffed in exasperation. "Yes."

"I didn't know that you kept in touch."

Booth shrugged. "We don't"

Brennan frowned as she processed the information. "How did you come across that piece of information?"

"Got an e-mail from an old CO of mine. He was around when Hannah and I first met. Anyway, he's the big cheese of the unit that Hannah's currently embedded in. Apparently, she and her new camera man hit it off. He knelt down in the middle of the mess hall and pulled out his grandmother's ring. And she said yes."

Brennan turned down the burners on the stove and then stepped closer to her partner. "Are you alright?"

Booth took a moment to think, running his fingers through Brennan's hair. "Yeah, of course, why wouldn't I be?"

Brennan's response was to stroke her hand up and down his tie fabric. "Because you wanted to marry her, and she said that she wasn't the marrying kind and then she left you. And you were very angry. I can imagine that you would be upset that she moved on and is willing to marry someone who isn't you."

Booth closed his eyes for a moment, "Yeah, Bones, I didn't really need you to explain it to me."

Brennan's lips pursed. "I'm sorry, but you seem upset."

"I'm not upset, really. It just came as a little bit of a shock, I guess."

Brennan pressed a kiss to his cheek, as her fingers attempted to smooth his furrowed brow. "Well I'm glad that she found someone that she finds compatible."

Booth grunted. "Just stings to know that she told me that she didn't want marriage with anyone, but that she found someone else. I wanted to marry her and she's wearing someone else's ring. She was supposed to be _my_ one. I loved her. I wanted her."

Brennan twisted back to finish her dinner preparations, pots and pans clanked angrily on the stovetop. "Oh."

He stepped behind her and placed his hand on the small of her back. She stiffened and stepped away. "Bones, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I'm over it. I'm with you, one-hundred percent. It just took me by surprise."

Brennan twisted away as Booth again tried to make contact. "I have to go check on Joy. I can hear her babbling in the monitor. Set the table please, I'll be right down." Booth's frantic call of her name went unanswered. They sat through a silent dinner, where Brennan focused on feeding their daughter her mashed carrots, while merely moving her own food around on the plate.

After dinner, Booth wearily cleaned up and watched some television, as Brennan still wasn't interested in communicating with him. The only time that he and Brennan were in the same room that evening was when he had come to kiss his daughter good-night. Even then, Brennan had tucked the baby in and brushed past Booth quickly, giving him his privacy. He hated it.

Usually, they spent the night as a trio, relieving the pressures of the day and enjoying the miracle that they had created, their family. They would read stories, and with enough coaxing, Brennan would sing Joy a lullaby as they rocked their daughter to sleep. But not tonight.

Instead, Booth had rubbed his daughter's cheek with his thumb and reassured her of his love. Joy had simply smiled at him, before placing her thumb in her mouth and closing her eyes. Booth watched her sleep for a long time, happy at least that she was oblivious to the tension between her parents. Sometimes he still couldn't believe how perfect she was, how happy they were as a family. How wonderful his life had become, and now, all he wanted was to restore the balance.

Eventually, Booth left his daughter's room and gently closed the door. He slowly made his way to his and Brennan's bedroom. Seeing that Brennan was curled on her side and apparently trying to pretend to be asleep, Booth switched off the main room lights and tucked himself into his side of the bed.

He reached over to Brennan, but she was still turned away from him. Usually, they slept entwined together, their nightmares soothed by the presence of the other. But apparently, that was another thing that wouldn't be happening tonight. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Bones, I'm sorry. You know that I didn't mean it like that. I absolutely do not want Hannah. I'm so happy with you, with the way our life is. We have Joy and Parker, and each other. I don't need anything else. I don't want anything else. What we have together, it's more than I could have even dreamed of. Now, I know that you are mad at me. But please, tell me that you know that."

Brennan rolled over to face Booth. She worried her lip before answering. "Of course I know that. I know that we are in a committed relationship, and that Hannah is in your past."

Booth nodded in the darkness. "But I hurt your feelings."

"Yes, you did."

He reached over and pulled her close to him. "I'm very, very sorry. I love you so much. Hannah _is_ my past. And to be honest, she was a mistake. She never knew the real me, she never learned all of my secrets, and I never loved her with my whole heart. Even when I was with her, I couldn't forget you. I once told you that there was only person that you love the most. You're my person, Bones. You're it."

Booth was begging her with his eyes to understand. Even in the dim light, he hoped that she could see how much he needed her. He was hoping for forgiveness, but he wasn't expecting her response. "I think that we should get married."

Booth rotated a finger in his ear, testing his hearing. "What?"

"I want to get married," Brennan repeated.

"Hold up, Bones. Are you just saying that so you can keep up with Hannah?"

"No, of course not. Don't be ridiculous. When have I ever done anything just because other people were doing it?"

"Umm, never. But, uhh, why now?" Booth had pulled himself away from her body, confusion now etched on his face.

"Have you ever been sky-diving?"

Booth's confusion deepened. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Have you ever been sky-diving?" Brennan repeated.

Booth gave an unseen cautious nod. "Yeah, back in the day, during some training missions."

"Do you know that feeling right before you jump?"

"The 'I can't believe that I am going to jump out of a plane and possibly plummet to my death, but I want to do it anyway because it's a once in a lifetime experience and it will be incredible' feeling. ls that what you mean?"

"I wouldn't have put it quite that way, but, yes." She agreed, even as she reached across the bed to re-establish their physical connection.

"So, what does that have to do with marriage?"

Brennan considered her words for a moment. "The first time that I went sky-diving, I did a tandem dive. I was strapped to my instructor and I was so nervous. I wanted to do it, I did. But looking out of the side of that plane, where I could barely see the ground, I felt terrified and nauseated. I almost didn't do it."

"My Bones, scared? I don't believe it." He kissed the tip of her nose.

"Yes, but then I realized that I wanted to jump, I wanted to have that experience. And I had a certified instructor, who knew exactly what she was doing. She told me that I could do it, that we would do it together."

"And you believed her." Booth nuzzled into the space where her ear met her neck.

"I did. And we jumped, and it was incredible. I can't describe it. There was the cold and the wind rushing, and the Earth getting closer, so quickly. It _was_ terrifying. And then we pulled the cord and everything just slowed down. I could take in everything around me, it was an entirely new world that I was seeing. I'd never experienced anything like it."

Booth pressed feathery kisses along her neck. "Yeah, it's a pretty awesome experience."

"I think marriage could be like that for us. It scares me, but I want it. I want to have that experience. I want to see the world in a different way. You're like my instructor, you are the one who believes in me, who tells me that I can do whatever I set my mind to. With you, I can do anything. Because of you, I know that I can do this, and that I want to do this. Booth, I want us to jump together."

Booth pulled her as close as he possibly could. His lips once again found her ear, whispering into it. "I want that too. Oh God, I've always wanted it."

Brennan smiled as she allowed Booth to pull her even closer against his body. "And you were willing to wait for me. Until I was ready. I'm ready now. So will you marry me?"

Booth's first response was a deep kiss and a fervent nod. "Yes, yes. Let's get married."

Brennan smirked, "I'm sorry that I took away the chance for you to propose. I know that your romantic side must be disappointed."

Booth cut her off with another kiss. "I'm not disappointed. Hold on." He pressed their lips together again quickly before swinging his legs out from underneath the covers. He rooted through his underwear drawer for a few moments before emerging with a small velvet box. "I've had this for awhile. I hoped maybe, someday, it would see the light of day."

Brennan flicked on her bedside lamp so that she that she could look at the ring, but more importantly at Booth's face. His eyes were twinkling, his smile was dazzling and his hands were shaking as he opened the lid of the box. Brennan couldn't contain her gasp as she glanced at the ring.

It was simple and practical, she could tell that he had picked out a ring that would not snag on work gloves. But it was beautiful. And although she had never imagined a diamond ring on her finger, nor had planned on wanting one, she found that she couldn't wait for him to place the band on her finger. In that moment, it was all that she wanted.

"Temperance Brennan, will you make the happiest man alive even happier by letting him be your husband?"

Brennan's words escaped her, tears sprung to her eyes, and she could only nod her acceptance of the proposal. Booth's smile grew wider as he removed the ring from its case and slipped it onto its rightful place.

After a moment of silence, Brennan regained the use of her voice. "I love you, Booth."

"I love you, too."

Brennan couldn't tear her eyes away from the ring. Finally, she looked up at her partner. "Angela is going to explode. Metaphorically, of course."

"So will your dad." Booth smirked.

Brennan chuckled. "Yes, he's been hinting at this for awhile. He brings it up practically every time that I see him. It gets exhausting."

"Well, he's our nanny, what did you expect?"

Brennan ignored the comment. Instead, she held her hand up to the light, the ring sparkling almost as much as her eyes. "So we are going to get married."

Booth breathed out his acceptance. "Yeah, but no rush. We can take our time. I'm not going anywhere."

"Neither am I."

"I know that, baby." His hand reached out to toy with her ring. It looked so right on her hand, and his throat tightened with emotion.

Brennan finally lowered her hand, turned off the light, and snuggled into Booth's side. "So do you think that Hannah is as happy as we are?"

"No way. I wish her the best, I do. I hope that she is happy. But whatever she has with her camera man, it doesn't compare to what we have. Bones, it is your happiness that I care about. You're the one. You will always be _the one_."

Brennan smiled into the darkness. "I think that maybe you are my one too."

Booth sought out her lips for another passionate kiss. "Of course I am, baby. Now, I believe that we have some celebrating to do. I feel like we should make a toast."

"We don't have anything to drink." Booth raised his eyebrow, and even in the dark, Brennan could read his expression. "We can open some champagne tomorrow night. But yes, I believe a toast would be appropriate."

Booth pressed his lips to his fiancée's. "To our next great adventure."

Brennan returned the kiss. "To jumping together."


	19. Iktsuarpok

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones, but I am obsessed.

Author's Note: You know what is a good word? Penultimate. However, it's a sad word when used in conjunction with this story. There is only one chapter left after this one. The story is kind of a stretch for the word, but it was fun to write Jealous Booth, and I hope that you enjoy it as well.

Chapter Nineteen: Iktsuarpok

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><p>Iktsuarpok: <em>Inuit<em>- "To go outside to check if anyone is coming."

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><p>Booth glanced at the clock on his dashboard. He was running a few minutes late. But he had stopped for coffee first, so that should make up for the delay. He illegally parked and threw on the lights of the SUV as he smiled to himself. Brennan hated it when he took advantage of his job, and as such, he only abused his power in her presence. He balanced the two cups of coffee as he exited the vehicle and made his way inside of the building.<p>

Booth paused before knocking on her door, adjusting the drinks as well as his tie. He quickly smoothed his hair as well before rapping smartly on the door. However, Booth's stomach fell when he heard a muffled man's voice and Brennan's clear response of "I'll get it." His stomach dropped further as he heard two distinct sets of feet shuffle around the apartment.

He nearly dropped his coffee as his partner opened the door a crack and peeked out at him. Her hair was disheveled and she was still rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "Booth?"

"Who else were you expecting? The Tooth Fairy?"

Brennan stepped out of the apartment and shut the door behind her, blocking whoever was inside from coming out, or perhaps keeping Booth from entering the apartment. Booth swallowed when he realized that Brennan was not yet dressed. She was wearing a silky robe over what he assumed was practically nothing else. He thrust a coffee at her and when his hand was free he glanced at his watch. "You know, we've got a briefing with Caroline and we're running late. You're not even dressed yet."

Brennan took a long drag of the drink, "I'm sorry, I had a late night. I will be ready in five minutes."

Booth shifted on the balls of his feet. "Great, I'll wait in the car. And you can be the one to explain to Caroline why we're behind schedule. You're already on her bad side, you don't need to drag me down with you."

Brennan's brow furrowed, "You sound like you are angry with me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I'm usually very punctual. It won't happen again."

Booth turned on his heel and marched to the elevator. "Good. Fine. I'll see you in five minutes. Enjoy the coffee."

Brennan let herself back into her apartment, confusion still written on her face. She shrugged as she sipped her coffee again. Her partner was just so strange sometimes. A man peeked his head out of the kitchen, where he was busy flipping pancakes. "Who was at the door?"

"Just Booth. He brought me coffee."

The man nodded, "That was nice of him."

Brennan's agreed, a small smile slipping into a frown. "Yes, but I think that he's angry with me."

"Why, honey?"

"I have no idea." Brennan continued to drink her coffee even as she hurried into her room in order to make herself presentable. She emerged four minutes later, looking impeccable.

The man smiled. "You look beautiful." Brennan adjusted her jacket as she acknowledged at the compliment. "Breakfast will be ready in five minutes, you must be hungry."

"I'm sorry, I can't stay. That was why Booth was here. We have to meet with the federal prosecutor."

The man handed Brennan a stack of pancakes wrapped in a paper towel. "Well then, tell Caroline I said hello. And eat those. They're delicious. I threw in a couple for Booth too."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate them. Thank you." She pecked the man on the cheek as she was hurrying out the door. "Lock the door on your way out."

"Sure thing, Tempe. Have a good day. I'll see you later." The only response was the door shutting loudly behind her.

Booth glanced again at his watch. He had walked out of her apartment eight minutes ago. Sixty more seconds and he'd call her to hurry her up. He took a disgruntled drag of his coffee. She knew that he was going to pick her up this morning. She should have been ready, not wasting both of their time. With thirty seconds to go, Brennan breezed into the SUV. "I'm sorry that I took so long."

Booth started the ignition without comment and pulled out, barely noticing the traffic. A horn honked loudly behind them. Booth yelled out of his open window as the driver passed him. "FBI, buddy. Deal with it."

Brennan held out a pancake. "Here. Take this. You get cranky when you are hungry."

Booth eyed the food warily, but took a large bite. "Pretty good. I didn't know you made pancakes."

"I don't." Realizing that Brennan's mystery man had made her breakfast, Booth choked on his bite and tossed the rest of the pancake out the window.

"Booth!"

"What? I'm not hungry." They rode the rest of the way to the Hoover in silence, Brennan quietly finishing her pancakes, and Booth scowling.

Caroline Julian was already waiting in the conference room when Booth and Brennan marched in, both slightly out of breath. "You're late, _cher_. And my time is very valuable."

Brennan stepped up to the lawyer. "I'm sorry, Caroline. It's my fault. I was running late this morning."

Caroline pulled a face. "You, Dr. Brennan were running late?"

A slight flush appeared on Brennan's cheek. "I had company last night and our meeting slipped my mind. Once again, I apologize for the inconvenience."

Booth continued to scowl. "Nevermind, let's get down to business. I've got the Velasquez file here. And as you say, Caroline, your time is very valuable."

Caroline huffed as she grabbed papers out of Booth's hands. "Don't you get snippy with me, Seeley Booth. Respect your elders. Now give me the Reader's Digest version, no words bigger than three syllables. Poor me, I forgot my dictionary at home this morning." She smirked at Booth as she opened the files and settled into work mode.

The group was elbow deep in case files, going over testimonies and affidavits when Booth's phone rang. He excused himself gruffly and exited the conference room.

The moment that Booth had stepped out, Caroline's head peeked out of her various folders and stared at the anthropologist. "What's got Booth's panties in a bunch? What did you do?"

Brennan looked up from her own files, confused. "I don't think that I did anything."

"Mmm-hmm. _Cherie_, I've learned that anything to do with Booth also has to do with you."

"I don't know, Booth brought me coffee this morning, and he's barely spoken to me since then."

The feisty lawyer shrugged. "Well, try and cheer him up. I don't want a grumpy agent on court day."

Brennan nodded and went back to her share of the papers. "I'll see what I can do. By the way, my father says hello."

Caroline's eyebrow raised at the comment. "Oh, how is our favorite deviant?"

Further conversation was cut off by Booth's re-entry. "Sorry, Caroline, I've got to pull Bones. We've got a case. Skeleton found on a playground, by a bunch of kindergartners digging for 'buried treasure.' We've got some freaked out parents contaminating the scene even as we speak."

Brennan quickly gathered her things. "Did you tell the authorities to keep them away from my crime scene?"

"They're doing their best, but we might want to hurry." Booth's hand found his spot on Brennan's back and ushered her out of the room.

Caroline gathered up her files and shook her head. How rude, they hadn't even said good-bye.

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><p>Exhausted from a long day of investigating, Brennan and Booth sat on her sofa and each sipped a glass of water. Booth would have preferred several fingers of scotch, but he wanted to keep his wits about him. He hadn't wanted to come here, but she had used her infallible logic on him. And he'd rather be with Brennan than home alone. So Booth had allowed her to persuade him to come back to her apartment and have dinner as they reviewed the files of their latest case.<p>

Of course, Booth couldn't help but notice that she ordered more than their usual when she called for Thai food, and had pulled out three sets of dishes in preparation for the food to arrive. Booth also noticed that Brennan kept glancing at her watch and worrying her lip. He saw her check her phone repeatedly looking for a text. And Booth caught himself staring at a man's jacket that had been haphazardly left over a chair. Clearly, there was someone new in Brennan's life, and he wasn't a fan. "So, where's your friend?"

"My friend?"

Booth's voice rose slightly as he spoke. "You know, the man you set out the extra plate for. The man who is clearly running late, as you keep checking your watch. You know, the man whose coat was left here."

A spark appeared in Brennan's eye. "Is that why you were mad at me this morning? Because a man spent the night at my house?"

"A man that made you pancakes, and saw you wearing nothing but a robe. A man who kept you up all night long."

Brennan's jaw dropped. "Booth, what are you talking about?"

Booth's frustration grew. "I'm a grown man, Temperance. I know what I saw."

"You didn't see anything! You were in the hallway this morning." Brennan's brow crinkled in confusion.

"Well, I could observe the evidence from there."

Brennan's own voice became angrier. "Your evidence is circumstantial and wrong."

"So you didn't have a man spend the night here?" Booth smirked, he could use logic when he wanted to.

"Well, yes."

"And said man made you breakfast?"

"Yes."

"Then I don't see how I could be wrong."

Brennan huffed. "You are so exasperating. So what if I had a man spend the night? So what if I stayed up all night long? And so what if I invited him over for dinner tonight? Why do you care?"

"Why do I care? Why do I care! God, how are you so blind, Bones?"

Brennan's phone vibrated at that moment and she saved herself from further yelling by reading the text message. It served to only increase Booth's frustration that she was so willing to drop him for her mystery caller. "Well, he's on his way upstairs, now. Perhaps you can greet him while I heat up his dinner."

Booth crossed his arms. "Why on Earth would I do that?" All Booth wanted to do was the punch the guy who was moving in on his territory. No way he was going to open the door and graciously invite the interloper inside.

"Because I said so." She left no room for objection as she stalked off to the kitchen. Booth could hear her rattling around angrily as he wrenched open the apartment door. Fine, whatever. Booth could do as she asked. When this guy stepped off the elevator, Booth would have a little chat. Whoever this putz was, he was going to treat Brennan right, or he was going to pay. Booth waited in the hallway for the elevator to climb the few floors to Brennan's level. The elevator dinged as the doors opened. Booth's scowl came back full force until...

"Booth?"

"Max? What are you doing here?"

The older man gave a cheerful smile. "Didn't Tempe tell you that I was spending the week with her? I've been out of town so much, that I invited myself over for some father/daughter bonding time. We had a Clara Bow movie marathon last night. Tonight's going to be Chaney. Are you sticking around? I brought popcorn." Max rattled a large bag of popped kernels.

Booth stared incredulously, "You were the one that made her pancakes?"

Max shrugged. "Least I could do after she let me invite myself over for the week." Max ushered Booth back into the apartment, where Brennan was setting a heated plate on her dining table. Max greeted his daughter with a kiss and he sat down to eat. Brennan then glared at Booth and returned to the kitchen. Max slurped up his Pad Thai and turned in his chair to face his favorite special agent. "What were you doing out in the hallway, anyway?"

"Waiting for Brennan's date."

Max paused in his eating, his fork suspended in mid air. "You thought that she had a date tonight? But I thought that you two..."

Booth shook his head. "I thought... I thought that she had a new man in her life. I didn't realize that the new man was... was..."

"Me?" Max finished the sentence with far too much glee in his voice, as he shoved his forkful of noodles into his mouth.

"Yeah."

"Well, anyway. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt your evening. Just wanted to spend some time with my daughter."

Booth waved away the concern. "We were just going over files. We just got a new case and we have a court appearance in a couple days. Just business as usual."

Max's mouth twisted. "Didn't look like business as usual. I know my Tempe, she's mad about something. You might want to do take care of that."

Booth nodded, "Right, yeah. I'm just going to go in there." He pointed to the kitchen area and stepped away without waiting for a response from the reformed criminal.

Booth entered the kitchen and watched Brennan for a moment before speaking. "Look, Bones. I'm sorry."

She was scrubbing plates in the kitchen and refused to look at him. "Sorry for what?"

"For being an ass. I didn't know it was your Dad staying with you. You didn't say anything."

"You didn't ask."

Booth nodded, "Fair enough. I assumed things. I could have just asked you."

"But you didn't."

Booth let out a sharp breath. "I'm trying to apologize here."

Brennan released the dish that she had been scrubbing back into the soapy water and turned to her partner.

"Why were you so angry that my father was here?"

"It wasn't about Max. Not at all."

Brennan's eyes met Booth's "I just don't understand your reaction."

Booth took a step toward his partner. "Yes, you do." Brennan said nothing, just took a step back, where she was trapped by the edge of her counter. Booth walked forward. Soon, his body was close to hers, his arms resting on the counter, caging her in. "I was jealous. There, I said it. I came upstairs to see you, and I thought that you had spent the night with some guy who wasn't me."

"Booth, that's ridiculous." Her response was a soft breath, and her pupils were wide as she met his eyes.

"It isn't. I know that you are an attractive woman who can spend time with whoever doing whatever you want. I just wanted that whoever to finally be me."

"Booth." His name was a soft exhalation.

"Just listen to me. OK, I was jealous. Bones, you and me, we've always been going somewhere. I've always thought that _we_ were going somewhere together. We've taken it slow, and made a hundred wrong turns, but maybe, _mayb_e we are finally at that somewhere. Tell me that I'm not wrong." His face was now hovering inches in front of hers and his hands had shuffled in closer to her body, locking her in even tighter.

There were a thousand questions running through Brennan's mind, and Booth could read every one of them on her face. "Booth... I..."

A new voice piped up in the kitchen. "Sorry, am I interrupting something?"

There was a quiet "no" from Brennan as Booth answered with a resounding "yes."

Max grabbed for a carton on the counter top beside Booth and Brennan. "Don't mind me. I just wanted another spring roll. They're delicious. Carry on." He made a quick exit, taking a large bite of his roll as he walked out of the room.

Booth returned his focus to his partner. They were both somber as Booth rested his forehead against hers.

When Booth trusted his voice again, he spoke. "So, Bones."

"Yes?"

"You didn't answer me before."

"What do you want me to say?"

"The truth. Do you feel like this is going somewhere?"

She was still for a long moment before she nodded shyly. "Do _you_ feel like this is going somewhere?"

"Yes, and I feel like I am going to kiss you." When she didn't object, but instead moved to close the small gap between their lips, Booth sighed and leaned in the rest of the way. It was every bit as wonderful as he remembered. This time, he wasn't going to let her go.

After an eternity, they separated. Booth caught his breath as he smiled, "You know, Bones, I like your Dad and all, but I kind of wish that we were alone right now."

"Do you want me to ask him to leave?"

Booth gave a soft chuckle. "No, of course not. OK, kind of, yeah. But I can wait. What's a few more days?" He gave her a gentle squeeze. "Come on, let's go out there and hang out with your Dad. I sense an awkward conversation about my intentions in the near future."

Brennan wrinkled her nose in disapproval as she allowed Booth to lead her out of the room. Max looked up from the remnants of his dinner as the partners exited the kitchen, unable to hide their matching grins. "So lover's quarrel over? Did you kiss and make up?"

There was a simultaneous warning of "Dad" and "Max" and the man chuckled. "Just kidding. Just glad that it's all worked out." Max waggled an eyebrow, "So, Tempe, are we expecting any other guests tonight?"

Brennan's smile widened as Booth looped his arm around her waist. "No, it's just us."


	20. Mamihlapinatapei

Disclaimer: I don't own Bones, but I am obsessed.

Author's Note: Well, here it is. The end of the story. It's also the longest update that I've ever written for anything. This word is what made me want to write these one shots in the first place. There has never been a word that describes Booth and Brennan better than this one. It was my favorite, so I saved it for last. I hope that it lives up to expectations.

I'd like to thank everyone who has reviewed/alerted/favorited these stories. Your support has been incredible and I have enjoyed all of your feedback immensely. Enjoy.

Chapter Twenty: Mamihlapinatapei

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><p>Mamihlapinatapei: <em>Yagan<em> (indigenous language of Tierra del Fuego): "the wordless, yet meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something but are both reluctant to start."

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><p>Retired Deputy Director Samuel Cullen stood in line at the Louvre. He glanced at his watch, and tapped his foot impatiently. He'd been standing in line for over two hours, but it was going to be worth it. This small tribute to his daughter was worth it. Amy had never gotten to see the Mona Lisa in person, as had been her dream. But even if she wasn't able to see it in person, he could feel her spirit, here with him.<p>

His wife stood on her tiptoes, craning her neck to see how far they still had to go in order to get to the head of the line. Satisfied that they had made progress, Julia returned to his side and wrapped her arm around her husband. "We're almost there."

Cullen patted his wife's hand as it tightened further around him. "I can't believe that we're really here."

"I know. You, on a plane? Over an ocean? I'm so proud."

Cullen nodded and looked around the museum. "She would have loved this. The art, the people, the excitement."

Julia gave her husband a soft smile. "Well, she did get to experience it, in her own way. What Ms. Montenegro did for her, it was a miracle." Sam nodded again, even after all of these years the pain of their loss was still there, but he could find solace in the fact that their daughter had had that happy memory during her last days. Sam turned his face to his wife as she asked him a question. "Have you heard from Seeley lately?"

"Got an e-mail wishing us a safe trip. He promised me a round when I got back to town."

"And how is Dr. Brennan?"

Cullen shrugged, "Fine, I guess. He didn't mention her, actually."

Julia raised an eyebrow. "Really? He said nothing about her?"

"I didn't ask, and I'm not his boss anymore. Believe me, I'm happy to not have to control those two. They were trouble." His voice held no malice, and Julia knew that he missed having to reign in that pair.

"They're adorable together."

Cullen groaned. "Oh, not this again. I told you, they are work partners. There is nothing else between them."

"You have no sense of romance."

"You say that to the man who flew you to the most romantic city in the world." Cullen continued to mock grumble. "And you're right. You know that, dear. You are always right. There was always this chemistry between them. And the way they would defend each other in my office. And there was this one time." Cullen paused in his story to let out a hearty laugh, drawing the eyes of several curious bystanders.

"What happened?" His wife prompted.

"I don't know. I said something that made Dr. Brennan upset, and he just reached over, and grabbed her hand and they stared at each other for the longest moment. Then my phone rang, and he dropped her hand and the moment was over. Then they both kind of looked at me like I was the one who didn't belong there. In _my own_ office. That afternoon I finally put my money in on the office pool. Still waiting to hear who the winner is though."

Julia considered her thoughts before speaking. "Well, I'm sure they'll find their way. I'll never forget what they did for all of those people, what they did for Amy. I just want them to find happiness. They deserve it."

"Now that I am no longer Booth's boss, I have to say that I agree."

Julia smiled as she squeezed his side. "There's the romantic that I married."

The couple continued to stand in silence as they finished their wait, lost in their own thoughts. The last few museum patrons stepped aside and Sam Cullen finally looked upon Mona Lisa's enigmatic smile. Julia was still curled into his side, and he swore that he could still feel some otherworldly presence, ridiculous as that might sound, with him.

Julia breathed softly beside him. "Look, Sam. We're here."

* * *

><p>"It's here!" The shout of a young woman caught Dr. Daniel Goodman's attention. The call was soon followed by the loud rumble of a rusted pick-up truck, making it's way down the one barely passable road. Dr. Goodman and his colleagues set down their tools with ease and made their way to meet the truck. Four weeks into a six week excavation and all of the members of the team were eager for the outside communication. Eager for news from home.<p>

A large package was thrown to Goodman once he had reached the truck, and he happily caught the box and dug into it with gusto. On top were letters from his wife and daughters. Below that were some recent photos taken from the twins' first day of school and a neighborhood block party that he had missed while he was away on this particular dig.

Goodman smiled as he continued to uncover his treasures. His wife had included some of his favorite snacks, and he tore into the wrapper of the candy bar, suddenly ravenous. The taste of home was just what he needed on a day like today.

He dug through to the bottom of the package and pulled out the most recent editions several of his favorite journals. He could access them online when the sporadic connection of the dig site was working, but his wife knew that he preferred the hard copies. He glanced through the small stack and paused when one journal had a post-it note stuck to the front that read, "Check out the cover story. I'll think you'll recognize the stars."

And sure enough, under the note was a picture of Dr. Temperance Brennan in her blue lab coat, holding a skull and standing on the familiar forensics platform. Goodman never regretted taking a position at a different institution, where he was now able to teach classes and travel on digs. While, he had excelled at being an administrator, he was happier being back in the field. Even though Goodman had moved on, he fondly remembered his time at the Jeffersonian.

Goodman absently passed around the other journals, allowing his colleagues to look at the latest research in their fields, keeping the last one for himself. He quickly flipped to the main article, a feature on using the latest technology to solve crimes, both ancient and modern. There were several photos of the lab that was his former home. But more than the places in the background, it was the people that he remembered. And taking up the bottom half of one page was the entire team assembled: anthropologist, pathologist, artist, entomologist, and agent. The interns were also pictured, although Goodman didn't recognize any of their faces.

The archaeologist continued to analyze the photo. Dr. Saroyan looked every bit as proud and powerful as she on the day that he had hired her, an ill-at-ease Hodgins was attempting to hide to behind a glowing Angela, and in the center of the glossy picture was the center of the team. Booth and Brennan. They were both facing the camera, Booth with a nervous smile and Brennan looking a bit smug. Goodman could only guess what thoughts of theirs had been captured on film.

Goodman turned the page. He squinted at the accompanying photo before grinning. There were the partners that he remembered. The photographer had taken a candid shot of Brennan in her office, Booth beside her. Files were spread out beneath them, but they weren't looking at the papers. No, they were focused on each other with an all too familiar expression. As much as things had changed over the past years, they had still remained the same.

The same voice that had heralded the truck's arrival broke him again out of his reverie. "Hey, boss? Didn't you used to work at the Jeffersonian?"

"Yes, I did. These were some of my colleagues."

Another grad student glanced at the article. "No way, you know Temperance Brennan? I love her books. Is she as amazing as they say?"

Goodman nodded, "Even more incredible. She and her partner, the whole team really, they are the best in the world at what they do. I was honored to have worked with them. I am honored to consider them friends."

Another colleague wiped at his sweaty brow, glancing at the pictures still on display. "So no regrets, leaving the air conditioned Jeffersonian for the heat of this jungle?"

Goodman shook his head as he carefully tucked the journal back into his box. "No, not at all, but sometimes... Sometimes, I really miss that place."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe that I missed this place. I'm back in town two days, and I already want to go back on vacation." Dr. Camille Saroyan rolled her eyes as she removed her latex gloves in disgust. Walking in on Monday morning to a gooey body had not been her idea of a welcome home party.<p>

"You know, Dr. Saroyan. I'd be happy to remain in charge of the forensics team if you wanted to take some more time off. We fared quite well in your absence."

Cam threw her gloves into the garbage as she hid an eye roll. "Thank you, Dr. Brennan. It's nice to know that I am superfluous."

The beep from the front of the platform drew both women's attention. Booth's security card was in his teeth as he flipped through some files. He removed the card and turned to the pathologist. "Come on, Camille. You know that we'd be lost without you."

Brennan frowned, "That is not strictly true. I have an excellent sense of direction."

"Bones, we're working on this. Less literal, more metaphorical. You can do it." Brennan just turned away from her partner and focused on the body in front of her. Booth shook his head and continued to talk to his friend. "Well, welcome back. Did you have a nice trip to New York City?"

"I did. Great shopping, amazing food. Saw a couple shows. Bought myself a few new soundtracks." Cam smiled broadly, remembering her time away.

Booth groaned. "Yuck, I hate musicals."

Cam nodded, "Yes, that's why we never made it to the Big Apple when we were dating."

Brennan's eyes snapped up from the body as she stared down the back of Cam's head. Booth and Cam's brief relationship hadn't been mentioned in a long time, but Brennan was surprised at the pang in her chest at the memory. She brushed it aside and focused on the murder victim in front of them, bringing the conversation back to work. As soon as she had concluded with her preliminary findings, she stripped off her gloves and quickly made her way to her office, shutting the door with force.

Booth once again turned to the pathologist. "What did we do?"

Cam didn't bother to hid her eye roll, "Brought up our fling."

Booth's eyes widened a bit at that thought. "Do you think she was... no... of course she wasn't. She's Bones."

"She still has feelings, Booth."

"I know that." Booth raked his fingers through his hair in frustration.

Cam looked down at their victim, not willing to talk in circles all day, not on her first day back from her vacation. "Well, anyway. We've got a murder to solve here. So, we might want to get back to that."

Booth nodded, "Right, right. I'll let you know when I have anything, Camille."

"Sounds good, Seeley."

"Don't call me Seeley."

Cam's usual retort was cut off as Booth had already turned on his heel and marched over to Brennan's office. She watched the man as he entered his partners office. Through the glass, Cam could see Brennan's face relax as Booth worked his magic on her.

Cam grabbed a new set of gloves and slowly worked them onto her hands. It wasn't just Booth's hatred of musicals that had kept Cam and Booth from going to New York. Cam could still recall digging through the earth and pulling Brennan and Hodgins out of broken glass and dirt. She could see the pure joy on the partners' faces when they realized that Brennan and Hodgins were safe, that the Gravedigger hadn't won. Cam had watched them as they stared at each other, and she knew then that her latest relationship had an expiration date. Of course, the actual end hadn't been pleasant at all, but being poisoned may have had something to do with that.

Cam sighed and began taking samples from their victim. As some fluid began leaking from the corpse, Cam could only shake her head. "Lord, two hours back on the job and all I want to do is go home and take a nap."

* * *

><p>"Uhh, you can get up now." Warning bells were still resonating off of lab walls as Booth turned his head from its placement near the ground. A soot covered Dr. Jack Stanley Hodgins was staring down at the partners. When Booth had heard the explosion, he had instinctively ducked for cover and pulled Brennan underneath him. They had stayed on the floor, Booth refusing to move from his position as protector.<p>

Hodgins repeated his earlier statement. "Guys, you can get up now. It was just a flash bang really. All lights and noise, no actual power."

Brennan squirmed underneath her partner. "Booth, we're fine. You can get off of me now." When he didn't move, she called his name again. "Booth?"

The man finally came to his senses and eased himself to the side of his Brennan's body. "Sorry, Bones. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine."

He continued to stare at his partner. "You sure? You didn't hit your head or anything on the way down?" His hands reached out and ran fingers along her face checking for injuries.

"I'm fine. Really, Booth." She pulled away from his ministration, stood and extended her own hand, pulling him off of the floor. Their hands remained clasped for a moment, and Booth seemed reluctant to let her hand go.

Hodgins watched them in amusement. This wasn't the first time that Booth had felt the need to rescue and protect her. Booth was looking at Brennan with an expression that Hodgins had seen many times before. He remembered the first time that he had seen that look on the agent's face.

The entomologist had rushed an injured Booth to an abandoned warehouse in order to rescue his partner. The man was emotionally beating himself up, surpassing even the physical bruises that had been left by an exploding refrigerator. Hodgins had just pressed his gas pedal harder and asked the universe to help them make it in time.

And they had made it in time. Hodgins had watched as Booth had taken down a corrupt agent and rescued a terrified Brennan from near death. Her eyes were wide with fright even as Booth helped haul her off of the hook and hugged her tightly. Then there had been a moment, where Brennan had pulled away and looked at Booth. Hodgins felt like an intruder watching their intimate moment. He'd been sure that they were about to kiss, but instead they had just gone back to hugging each other, and then returned to the hospital.

Hodgins blinked and was brought back to reality. Cam had finally come out of her office, trying not to shriek at the man who had once again managed to blow up her lab. Booth and Brennan separated as if they were pieces of shrapnel and Cam gave Hodgins an odd look at their reaction.

"Hodgins, there is a reason that you are supposed to run experiments by me."

"Sorry, Cam. Won't happen again." Cam fixed a glare on him and he held his hands up in apology. He risked a quick look over at the agent and anthropologist, and was surprised that they still seemed so shaken. His tone was contrite as he faced his boss once again. "Seriously, I will try very hard not to set off any more explosions in the lab, especially without your permission."

Cam nodded her acceptance of his apology and then turned to eye her anthropologist and agent. "You two OK over there?"

Booth nodded, "We're fine, Camille."

Cam raised an eyebrow. "You sure, you look a little... off."

"Seriously fine, Cam." Booth exhaled, tested his limbs once and then put on his best charm smile. "Yep, we're good. So, Bones, you hungry?"

Brennan smiled, finally releasing the tension in her body and on her face. "I suppose that I could eat." The partners turned towards the exit as Cam returned to her office, muttering about paperwork.

Hodgins watched the pair walk away, Booth's hand at Brennan's back. They were at the door before Hodgins found his voice. The partners completely ignored him as he shouted after them. "Hey, can I come? I'm hungry, too!"

* * *

><p>Angela Montenegro threw popcorn at the television screen in disgust. "I hate this movie!"<p>

"You picked it out, Ange. I thought you loved romantic comedies." Hodgins argued as he sank more heavily into the couch, extending his arm around her shoulders.

"I used to. But look at this crap. The two most unbelievable romantic leads in cinematic history are just staring at each other, like they want to kiss, but don't want to cross the line."

"I thought that you loved Colin Firth."

"That's not the point. I'm tired of all this staring and no action."

Hodgins looked at his watch. "We're like twenty minutes into the movie." Angela threw another handful of popcorn, this time at him and Hodgins swore as a kernel bounced into his eye. "What's gotten into you tonight?"

"I live this everyday. I don't want to watch it on TV, it's just stupid."

"What do you mean? Oh, oh. I get it. You're talking about Booth and Brennan."

Angela frowned, "Who else would I be talking about? I'm telling you, those two on screen, they've got nothing on the sexual tension between Booth and Brennan. I can't take it anymore. Seriously, sometimes, I just want to lock them both in a room until they do some touching to match all of the looking."

"Well there's nothing you can really do about it, Angie. It's up to them. When they're ready, they'll get there." Angela shot Hodgins an icy glare which he returned with a smile. "Just think of all of the ups and downs that we've had. And we're still here. Together. We did it, they can too." Angela set her popcorn bowl on the coffee table and reached over to turn the television off. "So we're not gonna finish the movie?"

Angela reached for his shirt and tugged it off of his head before he could react. Hodgins just watched her as she started to unbutton her blouse. "I just said that I was tired of all of this staring and no action." She winked at him and waved him towards her with the wag of a finger.

Hodgins finally reacted as he leaned forward on the couch and captured her lips with his. "I can give you action. Oh Baby, I am all action."

* * *

><p>"Die, scum, die!" Dr. Lance Sweets yelled into his computer monitor as his hands rapidly moved along the keyboard. "You can't kill me. I shall emerge victorious!"<p>

"Dr. Sweets?" At Brennan's questioning voice, the man whipped around in his chair.

"Uh, Dr. Brennan. You're early. I wasn't expecting you yet."

Brennan's brow wrinkled. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, just playing a game. I shouldn't play it at work, but you and Agent Booth are my first appointment of the day, so I'm not really on the clock yet, and... well... yes. Anyway, why are you alone?"

"Booth said that he would meet me here. He had to take Parker to school this morning."

Sweets nodded, turned to flick off his monitor and then started to settle himself for their appointment. "Well, even though it's just the two of us, we can get started."

Brennan just sat herself primly on her side of the couch. "I'd prefer to wait for Booth."

"Of course you would. We can just make small talk until he gets here."

"Why?"

Sweets rested his chin on the tips of his fingers. "Why not?"

"Fine, I'll try. Were you winning in your game?"

Sweets grinned. "I was totally kicking ass."

The office door clicked and Booth was there, holding two cups of coffee. "Sure you were, Sweets. Heya, Bones. I got you your favorite."

Brennan looked sheepish, and Sweets realized that she had also come prepared for their morning by bringing him coffee. Two travel mugs were set on the table in front of them. "I also brought you coffee. I thought that you would might be distracted by the alteration in your typical morning routine."

Booth smiled as he handed her one of his coffees and grabbed his travel mug from Brennan. "I'd never forget your coffee, Bones. You know that." Booth sipped at the coffee that Brennan had brought and sighed in satisfaction. "Man, this is good stuff. Where'd you get it?"

From his perch, Sweets watched the partners in fascination. Brennan extolled the virtues of organic, fresh ground beans even as she drank the more generic brew that Booth had provided, her original mug forgotten. As they began to bicker about whose coffee was better, and whose job it was to bring said coffee, Sweets just observed.

He couldn't help but remember one of their very first sessions when Booth had looked devastated at the idea of never seeing Brennan again. She had looked equally stunned when Booth had explained his stance on their relationship. From those very first days, Sweets had known what their partnership meant to them. Even if there were no more murders, they were more than just occasional coffee dates.

The partners had stopped their good-natured bantering and were now watching at the psychologist. Booth settled back into the couch and cleared his throat, "So, Sweets, you got something to say, or can we just get back to work?"

Sweets raised his head off of its perch on his hands. "Fascinating."

* * *

><p>"Dad, I'm bored." Parker Booth whined as Booth emerged from his room.<p>

"Well, what do you want to do today, Bub? Want to hit up the zoo? We haven't been there in awhile."

Parker rolled his head from side to side. "Daa-aad. The zoo is for little kids." His eyes sparked with hopefulness. "We could go to the movies."

"No way. I know what movie you want to see, and your mother already said no."

"I'm not a baby, Dad."

"No, but you aren't 17 yet either."

"It's not fair." Parker continued to whine, he hated being treated like a baby. Booth let him pout for a few minutes, until the boy apologized for his mood.

At the apology, Booth let out a grin, telling the boy that all was forgiven. "You want to go swimming?"

Parker's eyes sparked again. "Really? Where?"

"Where? Bones' place. Where else?"

"We haven't done that in forever. Not since before you went away."

Booth had been tying up his sneakers, and paused in the activity. Had it really been that long since he had taken his boy to her pool? "Has it really been that long?"

"Yeah, Dad. But it's cool. She'll let us come over. And maybe she'll make us some mac 'n' cheese. It's soooo good."

"I don't know, Bub. She's pretty busy, and it's rude to just invite ourselves over."

"But she told me that next time that I came to see her, she would make it for me. She promised."

Booth sighed. "I know, kid, but things are different now."

Parker frowned, "Oh, because you guys broke up? And then you were with Hannah?"

It seemed that Booth's shoes just weren't meant to be tied. Booth snapped up and looked his son in the eyes. "Parker. Bones and I, we never dated."

"Sure you did. You ate together all of the time, and you got her a Christmas tree, and you were always touching her when we were all together. You were totally dating."

"No, we weren't."

"Why not? She liked you. You liked her. You totally wanted to kiss each other."

"Parker..." Booth warned even as he turned to finally fix his shoes and then rustle through the front closet for his favorite jacket.

"I could tell. You were always looking at each other all mushy. Whenever I see that on TV, the people always kiss. Why don't you just grab her and kiss her and tell you that you love her. It always works on TV."

Booth sighed. How could he explain it to his son? "Cause real life isn't television, Parker. Now, do you want to go swimming or not?"

"I want to go, I want to go."

Booth tossed his phone at his son, "Go ahead and giver her a call, Bub. She won't say no to you."

Parker smiled as he scrolled though Booth's contacts. He made polite conversation with Brennan and she readily agreed to an afternoon of swimming and dinner of cheesy pasta. Parker hung up the phone, still grinning as he handed it back to his father. "She said yes."

"Good. We'll have fun."

"Yeah we will. But, I still think that you should just grab her and kiss her. Then I could have mac 'n' cheese and go swimming all the time."

Booth shook his head as he reached over to ruffle his son's hair. Parker protested as he playfully pushed his father away. "Daa-aad."

* * *

><p>"Dad, what are you doing here?" Brennan asked as Max Keenan pushed his way through her front door.<p>

Max pressed a kiss to his daughter's cheek. "Can't a father just stop by to say hello?"

Brennan's forehead wrinkled. "Well, I suppose some fathers could."

"I'm just trying to be one of those dads, Tempe."

Brennan nodded noncommittally. "But what are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to see if you wanted to grab some lunch. Maybe take in a movie. I haven't seen you in awhile."

Brennan smiled. "That would be nice, but I already have plans."

"Booth?"

"Yes, how did you know?" Brennan nodded even as she looked at her father in surprise.

Max just chuckled. "Where one of you goes, the other generally follows."

"Would you like to join us? I'm sure Booth wouldn't mind."

Max waved her off, "Nah, I can stop by another time. I'll give you a call and we can make actual plans." Max made his way towards the door, but Brennan stopped him.

"Are you leaving already, Dad?"

"Well, you've got plans with Booth. I don't want to interfere."

"He won't be here for about twenty minutes, if you want to stay."

Max grinned at his daughter. "He's picking you up?"

Brennan nodded, "Yes, he usually does."

Max's eyes lit up even further. "So it's a lunch date?"

Brennan sighed. "It's not a date, Dad."

"But that Hannah-girl, she's gone?"

"Yes, she has returned to Afghanistan, and she is no longer dating Booth."

"Well, that's good. I never liked her."

"You never even met her!" Brennan exclaimed as she distracted herself by straightening up her already immaculate apartment.

"But she made you unhappy, I'm your father. I'm always on your side. I had to hate her."

Brennan ignored the latest comment and offered her father a drink while they waited. Max asked for water and Brennan retreated to the kitchen. Max watched her go, a small frown on his face. He sank into the couch and was lost in his memories. He had seen the hurt in his daughter's eyes when she had told him about Booth and Hannah. Max had just wanted his daughter's happiness, and he had always known that Booth would make her happy. Booth cared about her, deeply.

Max had once asked Booth point blank if he was sleeping with Brennan. Booth had denied it, but Max had seen something in the agent's eyes. And when Booth had sincerely told Max that 'Bones is beautiful,' Max had known that Booth was in love with his daughter. He'd always assumed that it would just be a matter of time until Brennan would be willing to enter into a romantic relationship with the man who was clearly head over heels for the woman.

Still, nothing had happened. He had watched them share Christmas together, had seen the way that they looked at each other as they shared a festive toast. He had witnessed them both put faith in a system that could be unfair, how Booth stopped Max's plan for vengeance in order to protect Max's daughter. Oh Max had seen it all, he just hadn't seen the two of them cross the line into a full blown relationship. And he knew why. In trying to protect his daughter, he had taught her that people that she loves will leave her. Of all of his regrets, the scars that he had left on his daughter's heart were the ones that haunted him the most.

"Dad, here's your water."

Max leaned forward on the couch and grabbed the offered drink. He took a sip and smiled as his daughter sat down next to him on the sofa. "I just want you to be happy, Tempe."

Brennan's brow crinkled in confusion, all she had done was get him a drink. "I am happy, Dad."

Max shook his head. She was satisfied with her job, and she had friends, but it wasn't enough. Nothing less than everything was enough for his daughter. "You have the moon, but I want you to have the stars and all of the planets too."

The anthropologist pressed a kiss onto her father's cheek. "Thank you, that's very sweet of you. But I'm good, Dad. Really."

The man smiled and took another sip of his water. "Only the best for my Tempe."

There was a knock on the door, and Max had to conceal a grin as Brennan's eyes sparkled and a smile of pure happiness lit her face. She opened the door and a casually dressed Booth entered the apartment.

Booth greeted Max warmly when he noticed that he was in the room and Max reached out to shake the man's hand. Booth was standing close to his partner, and neither seemed to notice the breach of personal space.

"Max, you joining us?"

"Sure, why not?" He just winked at his daughter when she had given him a confused look. "Where are we going?"

Max followed them out of the apartment as they chatted about work and their lunch plans. Booth's hand reached for Brennan and landed on the small of her back. Max smiled to himself. He had faith that they'd figure it all out, sooner rather than later.

* * *

><p>"I can't figure this out, cher." Caroline Julian growled as she walked into Booth's office.<p>

"What are you talking about, Caroline?"

"This mumbo jumbo that your partner sent over."

"Well give her a call, set up a meeting. We'll straighten it out."

"Does she have to be so technical?"

Booth grumbled, "She's thorough."

"She doesn't let anything slip through the cracks, I'll give her that. But couldn't she just say collar bone instead of clavicle, just once?"

"Well then, she wouldn't be Bones then, would she?"

Caroline huffed. "And we all know that you've got to have your Bones, don't we, cher?"

Booth turned back to his computer monitor, but Caroline didn't accept the informal dismissal. When the prosecutor didn't move after a minute, Booth turned back to her. "Is there something else that you needed, Caroline?"

"Well, I'm not so inclined to be nice to you right now, Seeley Booth. I don't abide rudeness. But I just thought that you'd like to know, Rodgers hired his defense attorney. We're facing Candace Walker."

Booth groaned. He didn't like Walker, not one bit. "Ugh, she hates us. I hate going on the stand against her."

Caroline pursed her lips. "She's just bitter. We're 6 and 0 against her."

"Caroline, she once accused Bones and me of colluding to get a man convicted. She accused Bones of making up evidence because my case wasn't strong enough! She basically accused us of perjury."

"And it didn't work. And that man will be serving 20 more years before he even hears the word parole."'

"I just don't like her attitude, especially about Bones and me. She's always trying to pit us against the jury."

Caroline frowned at the man. "Well can you blame her for trying it? It's a tactic. She just doesn't like your friendship. She thinks that you two are too buddy-buddy."

"Bones and I are nothing but professional on the stand."

"It's off the stand that she has a problem with. You two, you walk in all lovey dovey, and you sit together, and you whisper together, and you smile at each other, do you need me to continue?"

Booth sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Not this again, please, Caroline."

Yes, Caroline had always seen it. Those two kids, subtle wasn't in their wheelhouse. She had seen it when she unleashed her Puckish side and had gotten them to kiss. She had walked away dumbstruck when Brennan had planted one on Booth, bringing in a flotilla of steamboats. But, Caroline had seen it most clearly when Booth had been on the stand at Max Keenan's trial. Booth had had to accuse his partner of possibly committing a cold-blooded murder. He'd had to tell the court that she had the motive and opportunity to kill Kirby. And he had done it, because it was the truth. Booth was incapable of committing perjury, but Caroline had seen that if he could ever be tempted to lie on the stand, it would be to protect his partner.

Caroline had not won that trial, it was one of the very few that she had lost when she had Booth pulling the case together, but she didn't let it bother her too much. Kirby had been a bad piece of work, and Max Brennan had been protecting his children. She hated losing, but when she had seen the relieved faces on her team, and when she had seen father and daughter reunited, she had gotten over the soreness. Brennan was a good woman, and Booth was a good man, she could let them have this one. Caroline had stood on the steps of the courthouse and watched as Brennan hugged her father, but her eyes had been only for Booth.

Booth had turned back to his monitor. "Anyway, Caroline. I'll give Bones a call. She'd be happy to go over the files. She doesn't want this guy back on the streets any less than we do."

"Nice change of subject, cher."

"Whatever."

Caroline shrugged, "I just call it like I see it. And you two, you rented out a sky-writer. Anyone can see it, miles away."

* * *

><p>Booth felt like shouting from the rooftops. Brennan had come to him in the middle of the night. He had imagined the scenario thousands of times. Of course, he had never thought that the impetus for the move would be the tragic death of an intern, but he could stop the joyous feeling in his chest that Brennan had come to him.<p>

Yes, anyone could see how they felt about each other, everyone else had noticed it, commented on it. Their bosses, their friends, their family, everyone knew it, and finally Brennan and Booth had caught up to their own reality.

Booth loved her. He was in love with her. He had always known that she was the one. He'd made mistake after mistake when it came to his relationship with her, but he wasn't going to make them anymore. He wasn't angry anymore, and she was no longer impervious. She was strong enough now. She had proved that point by coming to him in a moment of weakness and vulnerability.

He looked down at his finally sleeping partner. She had cried for a long time, while he whispered meaningless words in her ear and rubbed her back. She had fisted her hands in his shirt and tried to slow her breath, and stem the flow of her tears. He had pressed kisses into the crown of her head as she rested her ear against his chest and listened to the steady beating of his heart. Eventually, her breathing had slowed and she had fallen asleep. Booth had simply watched her as dawn approached.

He was still exhausted, but he didn't want to close his own eyes. Despite the tragedy of the previous day, he didn't want this experience to end. He wanted to hold her forever, to revel in the fact that she was finally in his arms. But his alarm was about ready to buzz, and he had to find Broadsky. He had to end it. He reached over to silence the alarm before it could startle his partner awake and gave himself one last moment. He then returned his arm to Brennan's back, rubbing gentle circles until she began to stir.

Her questioning eyes met his, "Booth?"

"It's morning, Bones. We should get up." She nodded before burying her face in his chest. He pressed another kiss to the top of her head. "It'll be OK, Bones. We'll get Broadsky. It will be over today."

"I'm scared, Booth."

"I'll be fine. We will all be fine."

Brennan shifted and brought her head off of its resting position. "I worry about your safety, yes, but that's not why I'm scared. I don't know how to say this."

"You can tell me anything, Temperance, you know that."

"I love you," she blurted as she blushed. "I just wanted you to know that. I don't want you to go another day without knowing the truth. I love you, Booth. I've been scared, terrified of telling you my true feelings, because last time, you were with Hannah and then you were angry."

"I"m not angry anymore, Bones."

"And we're both strong. I have nothing but complete faith in you, Booth. You will capture Broadsky, and you will stay safe, but I wanted you to know the truth. Life is short, Booth. Vincent's death showed me that. I don't want to hide anymore. I don't want to be scared anymore."

She met his eyes, and they stayed connected for a long moment, watching each other, attempting to read the other person. They each asked and answered a thousand questions without speaking a word. Finally, they both smiled and tilted their faces toward each other.

Just before their lips met, Booth whispered. "I love you too, Bones. Always have, always will."

She just nodded and closed the gap between them. This kiss contained the passion of their first one, the desire of their second, and the desperation of their third kiss. They remained connected and deepened the kiss, surpassing all of their previous attempts.

Eventually, they separated, breathing unevenly and unable to keep their eyes off of each other.

Brennan sat up in the bed and toyed with the hem of her borrowed sweatshirt. She looked at Booth with one final question in her eyes. Did they dare take the last step in their relationship? Could they finally cross the line? Here? Now?

Booth steadied her trembling hand with his own. He squeezed it once and nodded his head. They were ready, they didn't have to be scared anymore, didn't have to worry. It was time. His eyes met hers, she read his answer. And their lips met again.


End file.
